Trikk or Treat
by Viva.La.Revolucion
Summary: Ayr Trikk, Gryffindor 7th year, has just been made Head girl. The Head Boy, however, is one she will not choose to get along with. Read to find hidden secrets, and secret romance. Will the love of friendship conquer the hate of enemies? M for later chaps.
1. Homeward Bound

**Chapter One  
**_(Homeward Bound)_

The familiar sounds of King's Cross station filed her ears, and her heart soared. People were chattering, trying to be heard over the sounds of the steam engine. She looked around, reveling in the secure feeling of returning back to Hogwarts. She was on a mission to find her friends – always a challenge, during the bustle of students boarding the train. She breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of burning coal, perfumes and colognes, and sweets being prepared somewhere on the train.

"Ayr Trikk!"

She whipped her head around, blonde hair flying around her neck. Ayr smiled widely, her breath rushing out of her as a blur of black latched onto her. She pulled back from the hug, laughing at one of her best friends. She took in the sight of Jessiey, already dressed in her school uniform. Even her black hair was pulled up professionally.

"Jessiey Wright!" Ayr replied, pulling her friend in for another hug. "Have the others gotten here yet?"

Jessiey nodded emphatically. "They've gone and found us a cabin. They sent me out here to find you. You're always the last one, you know."

Ayr laughed and followed her friend after handing her trunk off to the goblin loading them into the cargo spaces. The two of them weaved their way through the crowd of students, taking refuge in their cabin. They both exhaled loudly, as if winding their way through their peers had been more work than it really had been.

"Ayr!"

Ayr looked around and smiled at her friends. She hugged each one in turn. Courtney Hart's brown hair tickled her nose as she pulled away and was immediately attacked by Sarah Everest, whose sandy blonde hair was – thankfully – pulled up. Isis Turbini smiled bemusedly as she pulled Ayr into a hug of her own.

"You live right next door to me," Ayr observed, pulling away. "How is it that you always end up here before I do?"

"Because I don't take six hours to choose an outfit," Isis replied, her eyebrows raised. "That's how it has been for the past seventeen years, and that's how it's always going to be."

Ayr pulled a face, mimicking her friend playfully. She looked around before slumping into a seat.

"Where's Lily?"

"Here! I'm right here!"

They all turned, watching as Lily Evans rushed in, her red hair flying around her. She quickly slammed the door to the cabin shut behind her, turning and leaning against it with a sigh. When she opened her eyes, she smiled at them all, though it was rather chagrined.

"We haven't even left the platform, and he's already starting."

As if on cue, James Potter ran by, stopping abruptly at their door. He tried opening it, but Lily, with the aid of Jessiey, kept the door shut. He gave up, smiling and blowing a kiss to the red-head before mouthing 'later' and walking off. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin followed, Peter Pettigrew bringing up the rear like a lost puppy. Rolling her eyes, Lily sat down next to Ayr, turning to the blonde and smiling.

"So?" Lily's hand jiggled Ayr's knee excitedly. "How does it feel to be Head Girl?"

Ayr smiled widely, but shrugged. The letter had come five weeks before school was scheduled to start, with a badge and instructions included. The badge had been attached to a school robe, which was tucked safely away in a small overnight bag by Ayr's feet.

"The same as it feels to be any other student, really," She answered honestly.

"Oh, come off it, Trikk," Courtney scoffed, flopping into the seat across from her. "Your heart's not racing? Your mind's not reeling? You don't feel as if you could float away at any minute?"

Ayr opened her mouth to answer, but Isis rolled her eyes and glanced out the window.

"She got all of that out over the summer," She announced, leaning back in her seat. "I swear, I could hear her from my room – and she was at _her_ house. Her victory dance was nothing compared to the colorful stream of curses that came out of her mouth afterwards."

"Why were you cursing? Stick yourself with the badge?" Sarah snickered, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"No," Ayr grumbled, her heart racing sickeningly at the cue, glaring at Isis. "Malfoy's going to be Head Boy. Thanks for reminding me, Turbini. I spent the last five weeks trying to forget that part of it."

She closed her eyes, rubbing her temples when she felt the beginnings of a panic attack. She had started having them last year after… _No_, she scolded herself, swallowing air. _Stop. It's over with. Nothing happened._ Finally, her body stopped feeling like it was going to implode, and she sighed, smiling up at her friends. Sarah was watching her with wary eyes, afraid her friend might collapse in on herself.

They all jerked slightly, listening with smiles to the soft groan as the train left the station. Ayr's heart lifted again, but her peace was short lived as she spotted the bag at her feet. She sighed, fishing her uniform out of the bag. Jessiey and Courtney moved in front of the door, blocking the window so that Ayr could change in relative privacy. Once she was done, she fished the letter out of her bag, skimmed it, and nodded to herself.

"Alright guys," She began, pushing the letter into the bag again. "I've got to meet with the Prefects at the back of the train. If I'm not back in three hours, tell the Aurors to look for Malfoy."

She left the room, giggling and scoffing following her out. She slid the door shut behind her, and wound her way through the few wandering students, dodging the Sweets Trolley as it passed her. Ayr came to a stop in front of the door, and a hand covered hers as she moved to open the door.

"Pleasant summer, Trikk-ster?"

Ayr stiffened, and tried to remember how to breathe normally. _Get a grip, Trikk_, she scolded herself. She mentally groaned, but didn't hide the rolling of her eyes. The smell of his aftershave was unmistakable. It wasn't that she knew what it was, per se, but she knew that it smelled expensive. Only the best for Pretty Boy.

"Wonderful, until I found out I'd be sharing my role with you," She retorted, pleased that the fear in her heart didn't show in her voice. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm allergic to assholes."

She opened the door enough to slip into the compartment, shutting it just as Malfoy moved to enter. She smiled up at him innocently as he came in, rubbing his nose and eyeing her with cold anger in his eyes. They sat down across from each other, and Ayr looked around, realizing why the meeting was set in one of the larger compartments in the back. Malfoy cleared his throat and looked down at the parchment held in his hands.

"I can see that everyone's already here, but protocol must be followed. When you hear your name, please let me know that you're present." He looked around, and when everyone nodded, looked down again. "Justin Tolson and Cybil Goldstraw, Hufflepuff -" He paused and looked up, acknowledging the two hands raised "- Robert Vanderbell and Karen Overby, Ravenclaw. Jordan Chambliss and Morgan Bailey, Gryffindor. Nicholas Pyles and Jennifer Ashon, Slytherin. Good. We're all here."

Malfoy looked over at Ayr, his eyebrow quirked as he silently prompted her to begin. She swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat and nodded.

"Alright then," She began, crossing her legs and smoothing her skirt. "First things first – I'm Ayr Trikk, Head Girl, and that's Lucius Malfoy, Head Boy. Before we discuss anything else, we need to talk about monitoring the halls. Prefects will leave class ten minutes early, and enter class five minutes late, in order to patrol the hallways between classes. They will also be up two hours after curfew, to make sure no one's wandering the halls."

"Each of you will be assigned a floor," Malfoy continued, looking down at his list. "In order to make things fair, students cannot monitor the floor where their houses are. That being said; Justin, you will patrol the basement corridors, Cybil – the first floor. Nicholas, the second and Karen the third. Jennifer, the fourth, Morgan, the fifth, Robert, the sixth, and Jordan, the seventh."

"We'll have a meeting twice a week, on Tuesdays and Fridays after dinner in the Great Hall," Ayr added. "At those meetings, we'll discuss any particularly problematic students, any regulations one sees fit to be made, and go over any questions you might have throughout the week."

"Deducting and adding points varies on the infraction," Malfoy said after consulting his list. "Five points will be deducted from any student who's late – thirty for any caught out of bed after hours. Otherwise, points can be added of deducted as seen fit."

"Within _reason_," Ayr added quickly, scowling at the twinkle in Nicholas Pyles' eye. "Are there any questions so far?"

"Can we deduct points from other Prefects?" Jennifer Ashton asked, her mouth curled into a sneer.

"No," Malfoy responded, his temper and chastisement surprising Ayr – and Jennifer, too. "Prefects cannot and will not deduct points from other Prefects. If there is a problem, you will see either Ayr or myself, and we will handle it. If we find out that anyone has deducted points from another Prefect, Dumbledore will be involved, and the Prefect will be asked to resign from their position. Am I clear?"

Jennifer looked a bit put out, and she turned her body away from Malfoy, choosing to snuggle up to Nicholas instead. Malfoy looked on in annoyance, but didn't linger too long on watching them. Ayr tried to keep the smirk off of her face, but judging by the scowl that Malfoy shot her, she hadn't succeeded.

"Save your act for someone who cares, Ashton," Malfoy quipped, never taking his cold eyes from Ayr.

The girl matched his stare, her brow raising in amusement, but it was taking all she had not to squirm under the chill of his gaze. She uncrossed and recrossed her legs, smoothing her skirt out again. He finally smirked, looking away to address a question someone had asked.

Ayr needed to get out of there.

* * *

An hour and a half later, Ayr waved good-bye to the Prefects and made her way back to her original cabin. She tucked her hair behind her ears, feeling better as soon as Malfoy was behind her. She tried to wrap her mind around the odd effect he had on her back there, but couldn't. She chalked it up to a display of power, and brushed it off. She looked up from her feet just as her compartment came into view, and she smiled at the view that greeted her.

Sarah had fallen asleep, and was leaned against a window, her slow breaths fogging up the glass with every exhale. Jessiey had her eyes closed, but was awake; her foot was tapping to whatever song was playing in her head. Courtney was reading a very worn book. She couldn't see the cover, but Ayr knew it was the romance written by an American Muggle that she had lent her over the summer. Isis and Lily were sitting with their heads together over a poster of the Irish Quidditch team. Judging by their expressions, they were trying to decide who the cutest one was.

"Nice to see everyone to," Ayr smiled, slumping into a seat between Courtney and Sleeping Beauty.

Isis and Lily jerked their heads towards Ayr, smiled, and went back to debating. Jessiey opened one eye, flicked a wave at her, and closed it again. Courtney never looked up from her book.

"How did it go?" Lily asked, pointing to a spot on the poster; Isis shook her head.

"As expected, I suppose," Ayr replied, stretching out and sighing with content. "The Slytherins seem especially malicious this year, for some reason."

"It could be because they would have won the House Cup last year," Courtney replied, peeking up over her book. "If Dumbledore hadn't given Gryffindor those last minute points, that is."

"Or that they're Quidditch captain left Hogwarts, and without him, they don't stand a chance at winning the cup this year," Lily added, making a face as Isis pointed to someone else on the poster.

"Either way," Ayr mused, "I'm not going to put up with a bunch of Slytherins who have sticks shoved up their arses. I'll kick them into next year if I have to."

"Ayr, start acting your age," Isis quipped, swatting Lily and pointing to the same spot she did last time.

"Darling, you've lived next to me all of my life and most of yours, and you should know very well by now that I never act my age."

A knock interrupted their banter, and all heads turned towards the door. The shade had been pulled down over the window, but they all knew who it was.

"Who is it?" Lily called out, rolling up the poster and putting it under her seat.

The Marauders opened the door, all trying to squeeze through at the same time. Finally, they stumbled into the cabin, laughing and punching each other in the arm.

"No, no, no," Jessiey growled, swatting at them. "You wait outside after you knock, and we ask, 'who is it', and you say who it is. Now get out and try again."

"Got it," Potter smirked, leaving just to turn around and knock again.

"Who is it?" The girls called out.

"Who it is!"

"Funny, Potter," Isis smirked, getting up to open the door. "And mature, too."

Forgoing a response, Potter smirked and cantered over to Lily, settling down in her lap. She scoffed and pushed him off with a sound of disgust, and he laughed as his butt met the floor. Sirius – the only one Ayr would call by his first name – leaned over to pull his mate off of the floor; Ayr was the only one to notice that Jessiey's eyes lingered a bit too long on Sirius' back side.

Sirius met Ayr's eyes and shrugged – _what can you do?_ Ayr smiled and winked at her childhood friend. Sirius and Ayr's mothers had gone to school together, and both had wanted to keep the bloodline pure. They had paired the two up as children, hoping that a sort of romance would blossom in their teens. The only thing either of them had gained was a best friend and confidant. When she had revealed this to her mother, she seemed disappointed, but not angry. Ayr chalked it up to her being a single mother of an only child, and having her daughter have any sort of male protection put her mind at ease.

As it were, Sirius met Ayr's eyes again and then flicked them towards Remus with a shrug. Ayr blushed softly and adverted her gaze, watching as Potter was trying in vain to catch Lily's attention. The girls were busy giggling at his antics, and it would and could have carried on that way, if Remus hadn't cleared his throat.

"Courtney?" Ayr noticed a blush creep into the boy's cheeks, and her heart fell a bit. "Can I talk to you outside?"

Courtney blushed as well, and put down her book. Ayr followed the two with her eyes until they slid the door shut behind them. Sirius caught her gaze and frowned softly, silently expressing his sympathy for her. Ayr smiled bravely and shrugged.

"Is there a real reason you're here, Potter, or are you just here to ruin the view?"

"I think you know the answer to that, Evans. And speaking of the two of us, will you -"

"I wasn't speaking about the two of us," Lily snorted. "And no."

"But you didn't even let me -"

"And I never will. Now get out."

"Aww, c'mon, Evans!"

"No. Out. _Now_."

Potter glared at Lily, his nose twitching. He then turned and glared at the rest of the girls, making a show of wiping an imaginary tear off of his face. Finall, he turned on his heel and left, Peter following obediently. Sirius winked at Ayr, and then followed his friends out of their cabin. Courtney slipped in past him, shut the door and peeked past the curtain. When she dropped it, she let out a small squeak and twirled.

"Do you have ants in your pants?" Ayr asked, jerking her head away from the blushing Lily.

"He-asked-me-to-be-his-_girlfriend_!"

The breath left Ayr's lungs, and she had to remind herself how to breathe. She smiled at Courtney, and Jessiey was the only one who noticed how strained the smile really was. The girls giggled and gossiped and congratulated, and Ayr fell silent as soon as her obligations of best friend had been met.

She suddenly felt cold. She really hoped there was warm cider at the feast.


	2. Eat, Drink, Be Merry

**Chapter Two  
**_(Eat, Drink, Be Merry)_

Ayr couldn't keep the smile off of her face as she entered the Great Hall; she noticed that her cheeks were beginning to cramp, but she didn't have the heart to hide her joy.

Sirius was walking behind Jessiey, poking her in the head and laughing every time she rolled her eyes, though she was trying her hardest not to smile. Remus and Courtney walked side-by-side, their heads close together as they whispered secrets back and forth. James was pestering Lily, and Lily was elegantly flipping him off. Poor Peter was blushing down to his neck while Isis and Sarah giggled and pointed to him – Ayr noticed there was a "Snape's Toy" note stuck to the back of his robes.

Ayr took her seat at the Gryffindor table. Jessiey and Lily flanked her, putting Isis, Sarah and Courtney on the other side of the table. Ayr's stomach turned as she watched the new couple link hands under the table, and she suddenly didn't want the warm cider she had longed for only moments ago.

She stiffened as Malfoy walked through the door. He didn't look her way, but his smirk told her that he knew she was watching. Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson, and Snape followed after him, almost tripping over each other to keep up with Malfoy's long, powerful strides.

_He's probably just finished picking on some poor first year_, Ayr mumbled mentally, shooting him a glare.

This time he _did_ look at her, placing his hand over his heart and feigning pain. She flipped him the bird, grimaced when he laughed, and bore holes into his back with her eyes as he walked off. She caught the glances her friends sent her way, and she felt her brow raise.

"What?"

"You're not making a very good impression as Head Girl," Isis called over to her, getting nods of agreement from the other girls.

"Like I care," Ayr scoffed, turning her head to the stool and sorting hat that had just been conjured up. "I despise that asshole. Everyone knows that – why should it come as a surprise if I glare at him or flick him off?"

"The fact that you're glaring and flicking _anyone_ off is a bad impression," Lily observed.

"Even if it is a pompous, self-righteous prat like Malfoy," Sarah shrugged, turning her attention to Dumbledore.

The wizened man smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling with joy. He held up his hand, waiting for the room to quiet down. Once all eyes were on him, he brought his hands together, sighed, and smiled wider.

"Welcome, students old and new! Welcome back to Hogwarts – the halls have been much too empty without the chattering of young souls!" He looked around, his smile still painted on his face as his kind eyes scanned the room. "Before we begin the Sorting Ceremony, I would like to remind students that curfew is nine o'clock, and any students found out of bed will have points deducted. Also, any students found near the Whomping Willow will not only assuredly have a sore bottom, but will receive detention for nearing the tree after hours."

Ayr wasn't sure, but she thought she noticed Remus tense. Courtney must have noticed it too, because she glanced up from her hands to frown at her new boyfriend. Remus smiled reassuringly at her, feigning a yawn, and turning back towards Dumbledore. Ayr caught Courtney's gaze, shrugged, and turned back to Dumbledore.

The Sorting Ceremony was nothing new; scared students went up to the stool, jumped when the Sorting Hat first spoke to them, and then smiled with relief when a house was called out. She noticed that Slytherin cheered particularly loud when a student was assigned to their house, and when Ayr looked over, Malfoy winked at her in that arrogant way. She snorted her disgust and turned her attention to the feast that appeared on the long table in front of her.

Her skin prickled as she filled her plate, and she knew why, but she wouldn't look up at him. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of bothering her. A minute later, she growled and looked up, ready to flip Malfoy the bird, only to see that it wasn't Malfoy at all. Daniel Parkinson caught her eye, and she shivered. The heat in his eyes was a contrast to the ice in Malfoy's, but that look reminded her of –

_Nothing happened._

She nodded to herself, forcing herself to swallow a spoonful of pudding before she lost her appetite completely. It settled in her stomach like a lead weight, and she could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as he kept staring. She finally shifted, casually brushing her hair back with her middle finger, and she felt the eyes leave her; Ayr sighed with relief.

"Potter!"

Ayr looked over to where Potter had started dancing, standing on the bench and stomping around in circles. Sirius laughed, clapping out the rhythm on his knees. Ayr could feel the corners of her mouth lift up into a smile as she hid her laughter behind a cough.

"Is it the full moon tonight, or are you just retarded?" Lily called over our heads.

Remus' face went a bit white, but his smile never faded. Sirius finally reached up and pulled Potter down by his school robes. Potter looked over and blew a kiss to Lily, who snorted out her disgust.

"Obviously my efforts to woo Lady Evans have failed once more," Potter mused, loud enough for the girls to hear. "If at first you don't succeed, try and try again!"

"And fail again," Lily mumbled under her breath, causing her friends to snort with laughter.

Ayr ignored the hand that Courtney kept under the table throughout dinner, and by the end of the feast, she could almost pretend that her throat didn't tighten whenever she looked their way.

* * *

"Raspberry lemonade!"

Jessiey stomped her foot on the ground while the rest of the girls waited with their arms crossed and feet tapping on the ground. The Fat Lady peeked through one of her closed eyes, quickly closing it again when she saw the girls glaring.

"Raspberry lemonade," they chorused, growing impatient and antsy.

The Fat Lady sighed and threw up her arms in exasperation, finally opening the portrait and letting them enter the Gryffindor common room. They heard her mumbling something about it being too early of an hour to be swinging open and shut. Three seconds later, however, they debated turning around and leaving again.

James Potter was standing on one of the lower steps leading to the dorms, with a crowd of what seemed to be the entire Gryffindor house surrounding him. They could see his mouth moving, but couldn't make out what he was saying. Lily rolled her eyes, but followed as they pushed their way to the front of the crowd. Ayr shot a curious glance at Sirius, who simply pointed to Potter and shrugged.

"…and we'll show them!" Potter cheered, holding up a flagon of what looked like Butter Beer. "We'll fly circles around them! We'll be the best damn team ever know in Hogwarts history! There's no bludger that can knock us down, no Keeper than can block our goals! We'll win the House Championship, and we'll go down in history!"

Ayr covered her face with her hands and shook her head. They had only been in school for five days, and Potter was drunk – wonderful. She peeked through her fingers, noticing him swaying as he swung his arm, sloshing the beer – which apparently wasn't butter – over the sides of the tankard. Some of it sloshed on Jessiey's foot, and she shrieked, waving her clenched fist in front of Potter's nose.

"I'm going to try everyone out _extra_ hard this year – we'll be the talk of the school!" Potter continued, swaying and carrying on happily. "And there will be feasting and drinking and smoking in our honor – The Marvelous Flyers of Gryffindor! Far and wide, the likes of us shall be known to all! Huzah!"

"How did he get drunk so quickly?" Lily hissed in Ayr's ear. "Breakfast wasn't even thirty five minutes ago!"

Sirius and Remus burst out laughing, Sirius holding up a small vial of something Ayr wasn't sure she wanted to discover. Then it dawned on her what Potter had said, and she groaned. She had completely forgotten that they had tryouts that morning. She rounded on Sirius, an angry glint in her eye.

"Fix him! We have fifteen minutes before we've got to be at the pitch," She hissed. "If he falls off of his broom, it's on your heads."

Jessiey followed Ayr up to the dorms, where they changed into the robes reserved solely for Quidditch. Ayr opened the closet by her bed, smiling at the sight of her broom. She ran her hand along the handle, closing her eyes as she was assaulted by sensory memories of the Quidditch pitch. The shouts filled her ears, the smell of manicured grass tickled her nose, and she could almost feel the wind whipping her hair back.

The two girls waved good-bye to their friends, glad to see that the crowd had dispersed. Lily and Isis flicked them waves, their heads bent over another poster on the coffee table. Ayr laughed softly to herself, leaving the common room and, ultimately, the castle. She inhaled deeply, reveling in the soft autumn air. Jessiey was chattering non-stop about the newest rumor circulating in _Witch's Weekly_. Ayr was only partially paying attention, but stopped short when she spotted the two figures ahead.

She controlled her breathing, walking again and ignoring Jessiey's inquisitive gaze. As the two of them neared Lucius Malfoy and Daniel Parkinson, Ayr strained to hear what they were saying. Instead, Malfoy stiffened and turned his eyes on Ayr, scowling when he saw her watching. The frost in his gaze wanted to make her shield herself with Jessiey, but she raised her chin and looked away, watching them out of the corner of her eye.

Malfoy turned back to Parkinson, who was watchin Ayr intently. She heard the bark of an order – or an insult, she couldn't be sure – and Parkinson's eyes snapped to Malfoy's face. They were both red-faced, and Ayr had the feeling that she had just witnessed an argument of sorts between the two.

The pitch loomed ahead of them, welcoming the two girls with its wide arching entrances. They sprinted the rest of the way, stopping when they came close to the group of Gryffindors huddled together in the middle of the field. They joined them, and were joined shortly by Sirius and Potter. Potter, who was acting much more sober, stood in front of the crowd, signaling for Ayr, Jessiey, and Sirius to join him.

"Alright," He called out, catching everyone's attention. "Everyone knows why we're here. The team needs a third Chaser, a Keeper, and a second Beater. Just because you were on the team last year doesn't mean you're guaranteed a spot this year. Before you ask, when you transfer from sixth to seventh year, you'll stay on the team, too. So just go out there, have fun, and uhm… give it all you've got!"

The four of them spent the next two hours switching out hopeful Gryffindors until there were no more left to try out. They hovered in the air, waving good-bye to their housemates as the last of them left the Quidditch pitch. Potter ran a hand through his hair and nodded, as if affirming something to himself.

"They were all pretty good," He commented. "Much better than the batch who tried out with us last year."

He led them over to the stands, and they huddled close together, laying their brooms under their feet.

"What about Marsico?" Sirius asked, looking out over the pitch. "She's quick, she's coordinated, and she didn't let a single quaffle get past her."

"The only reason you want Marsico on the team is so you have the hopes of catching her in the changing room," Potter chuckled, causing Jessiey to stiffen.

"That's not true! The girl's a natural! What is she – fourth, fifth year? She looks like she's been playing Quidditch her whole life! She's perfect for the team!" Sirius' eyes were wild with excitement.

"What about the Rushing boy, Jack?" Ayr mused. "When he hit that bludger towards Sirius, he looked like he was going to lose his breakfast."

"_You_ try having one of those things fly towards your face," Sirius grumbled. "You'd be scared, too."

"That's the whole point of the bludger, you twit," Jessiey scoffed. "For distraction. As far as a Beater goes, Rushing has my vote. Marsico, too, even if Black just wants her to ogle at."

"I think Kelly would be better suited as the Keeper," Potter interrupted. "He's been playing longer, and he's only improved since try outs last year."

"Marsico knows what's she's doing, Potter," Ayr argued. "Besides. She's the only girl that tried out this year. We can't just have two girls on our team. Ravenclaw has three, and Hufflepuff is mostly girls – and that's before try outs."

"Since when does Quidditch have a diversity standard to meet?" Sirius scoffed, punching Ayr in the arm playfully. "It doesn't matter if she's a girl, boy, or dog. If she can play, she can play. She's just one of the guys out on the pitch."

"One of the guys?" Jessiey's eyebrows rose, and Ayr could see the beginnings of a flush creep up her friend's neck. "Yeah, maybe, but she'd be one of the guys plus some common sense."

Sirius made to argue, but Potter's eyes lit up and he held up a hand.

"How about Christian Washburn?" He whispered, as if sharing some big secret. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone keep up with you two the way he did. He's in my Potions class – bloody brilliant boy. He must have hands of glue – and the way he was throwing! Spot on aim!"

The four of them agreed on that one – the boy was perfect for the team, complementing Jessiey and Ayr perfectly. He knew exactly where to be before he needed to be there. _And_, Ayr added silently, _he's not too bad to look at, either_.

Once the final decisions had been made, Potter promised to post the team members on the message board in the common room before dinner. He sent them off with a reminder that their first game was in three weeks, and their first practice would be the following Monday after the final class of the day. He wished them a happy Saturday, which Jessiey and Ayr returned before leaving the pitch.

"We're going to kick Slytherin's arse this year," Jessiey exclaimed, bouncing from one foot to the other as they walked. "They won't know what hit them."

"It's more fun if they see it coming," Ayr giggled, bumping Jessiey with her shoulder. "I can't wait to see the look on Malfoy's face when we win the Championship."

They bantered back and forth on the way back to the castle. Ayr looked around inconspicuously for any sign of Malfoy, but saw none. She smiled and relaxed, enjoying the fresh air as it invigorated her. She twirled around in a circle as they neared the entrance to the castle, ignoring Jessiey's incredulous look.

"Quidditch puts me in a good mood," She quipped, rolling her eyes at her friend. "Bugger off."

"Why am I always getting stuck with the loonies?" Jessiey mused, more to herself than to Ayr. "If I didn't love tormenting you so much, I'd take you to have your head checked."

Ayr waved a hand dismissively and began climbing the Grand Staircase, Jessiey following. She couldn't keep the smile off of her face as the thought of the upcoming practice made her spirits soar. It was good to be back home.

* * *

"You're going to go blind if you keep staring at that thing," Sarah called over to Isis and Lily, who had moved on to the Bulgarian team's poster. "Seriously, give it a rest."

"What I want to know," Jessiey snickered, "Is where they keep getting those posters from."

The two girls ignored their friends, and Courtney joined them in their dorm room, her cheeks flushed. Sarah and Jessiey threw curious glances at Courtney, who just smiled and shut herself into the bathroom. Ayr's heart fell like lead into her stomach, which in turn jumped to her throat. She tried to push her discomfort aside, but only succeeded in feeling a bit constipated.

The girls were worn out from their first week back at school. Waging a dungbomb war with the Marauders hadn't helped much, either. They had all had to shower, some of them doubling up to get the longest use out of the hot water as possible. As soon as Courtney came out of the bathroom, the room was filled with soft snores.

Ayr lie awake in bed, trying to keep her eyes open. She didn't want to sleep, because with sleep came dreams. She felt her mouth form a frown as the thought came into her mind, and she pushed the annoying thoughts away.

She decided to count to 100; she never could sleep when her mind was focused on something else. Her eyes followed the lines on the ceiling, and the last thing she remembered was counting to forty-three.

_His hands were soft against her stomach, but his lips were softer still as he brushed her neck with them. She was anxious, but she didn't know why. Something about the situation felt off. She wasn't being hurt – on the contrary, the man above her was being very gentle._

_She heard someone giggle, and she knew it was her, even though she hadn't opened her mouth. _

"_I knew you'd enjoy this."_

_His voice was gruff in her ear, but his words excited her. His hand trailed down to her thigh, the tips of his fingers making soft circles on the sensitive skin where her leg met her hip. She could feel her mouth pull into a content smile, but something still didn't feel right._

This isn't how it happened.

_She opened her eyes, and realized there was a complete stranger in front of her. The room had changed – she was no longer on the couch in front of the fire, but standing in a dank basement. She crossed her arms, but it didn't keep the chill from settling into her bones. She suppressed a shiver, and looked around for the fireplace._

"_My daughter!"_

Daughter?_ Ayr thought incredulously. _He doesn't look any older than I am.

_She snapped her eyes to the stranger. The man in front of her looked oddly familiar, as if she should have known him from somewhere. His hair was dark and fell in delicate waves over his forehead. His eyes were dark, too, but not in color. Behind the sparkle of delight, there was something dangerous lurking. _

_She certainly knew he wasn't her father, but when he opened his arms to her, she went into them, anyway. When her arms wrapped around the man, she felt something stirring in her stomach. It was an unusual feeling, but not a necessarily unpleasant one. When she heard the giggle this time, she had to think hard before she realized the dangerous sound had come from her._

Ayr sat up in bed. It was the third night in a row that she had dreamt of the mysterious man. Each time, he claimed to be her father. As she rested her head back against her pillow, she promised herself she would write her mother tomorrow to ask about her father's identity. For now, she conceded with a soft smile, she would let the sounds of her friends' breathing lull her back to sleep.


	3. Wings

**Chapter Three  
**_(Wings)_

"Rushing! You're supposed to knock it off course – not knock someone's head off! Rush- _bloody hell_, _Jack_!"

Ayr whipped her head around, stifling a laugh as Sirius dodged bludger attack after bludger attack. She tossed the quaffle to Jessiey, who in turn threw it to Christian Washburn. With a look of severe concentration on his face, he zoomed past Marsico and shot it through the middle circle. Jessiey caught the ball and the three Chasers flew away from the goal, Marsico's curses chasing after them.

"Good!" Potter called from above them. "Again!"

Ayr and Jessiey exchanged a look of exasperation, Washburn looking absolutely horrified at their disrespect of Potter. _Another brown-noser for Potter, _Ayr thought with a sigh. She raised her eyebrow, jerking her head towards Washburn with a look of mischief. Jessiey smiled widely and nodded furiously.

Ayr smirked, grabbed the ball from Washburn, and floated by the unguarded goals, tossing it back and forth between her hands. Jessiey made a hand motion that Washburn missed and Ayr nodded, trying to keep the smirk off of her face. Jessiey inhaled, her eyes wide.

"Think fast, Washburn!"

Just as Christian turned at Jessiey's false bludger warning, Ayr threw the ball over his head and flew off as Jessiey caught it. After a moment of initial shock, Washburn's face morphed into a scowl, and he raced after the two girls. They tossed the quaffle back and forth, dodging Washburn's attempts to retrieve it. They could hear him cursing under his breath, which encouraged them to force their brooms to cut through the air faster.

"Trikk! Wright!" Potter's shouts were followed by a shrill whistling. "This is _not_ keep away from the new kid!"

"You think Hufflepuff's just going to _let_ him have the ball, Potter?" Jessiey retorted, switching to Ayr's right and throwing her the ball.

"We're just _training_ him, Cap'n!" Ayr agreed, throwing the ball over her shoulder and smiling as Jessiey caught it. "I thought that's what you _wanted_ us to do?"

Potter's arguing shouts grew quieter, ultimately dying out as they turned and whizzed down to the other side of the pitch, tossing the quaffle back and forth between them. Washburn's hands kept reaching out, only to pull back with nothing. Ayr heard him snarl, and she winked at Jessiey, who flew towards the ground.

"You're going to have to do better than that, Washburn!"

Jessiey tossed the ball to Ayr, who caught it and pulled it in to her body. Ayr flew underneath of her friend, spiraling with her as they attempted to make Christian dizzy. The quaffle left Ayr's hands, making a beeline straight towards Jessiey's waiting palm. Washburn flew out of nowhere, putting extra speed into his flight and catching the ball before Ayr could. The girls stopped in their tracks, and shot each other long glances. They had been Chasers since fourth year, and no one had been able to take the quaffle away from them – that's why their positions were secure each year. They looked at Washburn, eyebrows raised in approval.

"Good show, mate," Jessiey called to him, clapping slowly and nodding.

"Good. Great! He caught the ball!" Potter waved both of his hands, feigning girlish excitement. "Now run the drill again – and do it the way I told you to!"

This time, the three Catchers all rolled their eyes, but smiled as they flew through the evening air towards Skye Marsico.

* * *

The next day, Ayr's body was sore in only the way that Quidditch could cause. Her tailbone was tender from rubbing against the handle of her broom, and her skin felt dry and chapped from windburn. She smiled brightly the next morning at breakfast though, for her body never felt better than it did after Quidditch. She and Jessiey waved to the new team members as they passed them in the Great Hall, and sat down with their friends.

"Where's Courtney?" Jessiey asked, reaching for a biscuit.

"We thought she was coming down with you two lazy birds," Isis replied, her eyebrows raised in amusement. "She wasn't in the Common Room when you left?"

"No," Ayr answered, frowning. "Where have _you_ been? And for how long, for that matter."

Lily scoffed and waved a hand.

"Does it surprise you that we're up earlier than you two?" She teased, spreading some jam on her toast. "That's how it's always been. You two take forever to do everything – walking, apparently, included."

The girls looked over at the entrance to the Great Hall as Courtney shuffled in, her head down and her nose pink. At first Ayr thought she may have been blushing, but when she looked up to smile at her friends, she noticed that Courtney was ashen. Frowning, Ayr looked closer to see that her friend's eyes were red. She almost asked what was wrong, but then she noticed that Courtney had sat on the other side of Jessiey, as far away from the Marauders as she could manage. Looking between Remus and Courtney, Ayr huffed and crossed her arms.

"What happened?" She asked under her breath, leaning across Jessiey, who complained about almost getting Ayr's hair in her food.

Courtney waved a hand, snorting, but Ayr could see the tears welling up in her eyes again. Sitting back, Ayr frowned again.

_My long-term crush just hurt my best friend… What in Merlin's name am I supposed to do now?_

Looking over at Remus, Ayr opened her mouth to shut something, but shut it when she noticed that the boy looked almost as, if not more, ragged than Courtney did. In fact, Ayr noticed upon closer inspection, all four of the boys looked a little worse for wear. They were pale, the bags under their eyes standing out garishly in contrast. Ayr narrowed her eyes and glared at Sirius, waiting to look at him questioningly, but he did his best to ignore her. Crossing her arms, she turned back to Courtney.

"What happened?"

Her friend mumbled something, but Ayr didn't quite catch it. When she asked Courtney to repeat it, the girl sighed dramatically and turned to fix Ayr with a glare.

"He stood me up," She hissed, her eyes darting to narrow in Remus' direction.

"For what?" Jessiey asked, trying to hide the amusement in her tone. "A study date?"

"It's _not_ funny, Jess," Courtney mumbled, turning and piling some mashed potatoes onto her plate. "We had plans to meet after breakfast this morning, and _Potter_ came to find me. Said something about Remus being under the weather, and he wouldn't be able to meet me. And not _only_ that, but he said Remus wouldn't see me outside of classes for another _week_."

Looking over at the boys again, Ayr raised an eyebrow and shrugged at Courtney's explanation.

"I don't know, Court," She replied airily, taking a bite of the turkey that was on her plate. "He does look kind of ill, don't you think? It even looks like he got the rest of them sick, too."

Courtney looked past Jessiey and Ayr, her eyes widening a bit when she finally paid attention to the boys' appearances. Her face crumbled, and Ayr knew in the moment that her friend had gotten over whatever was eating her. She smiled softly to herself, chewing on her turkey; Courtney could be a bit emotional, but Ayr wouldn't have changed a thing about any of her friends. Finally, Courtney shrugged and turned to her food.

There was a small commotion overhead as owls flew in with the evening mail. Soft _thuds_ filled the Great Hall as owls dropped off their parcels, students chattering excitedly as they ripped into packages and letters from home. Lily squealed softly as a tiny, cylinder shaped tube fell in front of her. Ayr laughed when her friend revealed a poster of Italy's Quidditch team; Isis immediately abandoned her letters from home to look over Lily's shoulder in admiration.

Ayr shook her head slowly, and started slightly when something heavy dropped in front of her. She was slightly surprised to see that it was addressed from her mother; she had written home the previous morning, after having the dream about her "father". What with Quidditch practice yesterday evening, Ayr had almost forgotten about it. Looking at the package, Ayr felt her eyebrows vanish towards her hairline.

_Since when does it take an entire parcel to answer a question_? Ayr asked herself, smiling despite the situation, and pulled the package towards her.

Once the brown paper was torn off, Ayr saw a long, flat box. She frowned inquisitively and lifted the lid. The contents baffled her; inside of the box, there was a pocket watch, a bundle of letters held together with a rubber band, and a scarf. She lifted it out, finding a letter from her mother underneath. Jessiey gasped, and when Ayr looked up, she saw that her friends were staring at the scarf in her hand; it was green and black, with a silver emblem of a snake on one side of it. Ayr dropped the scarf back into the box as if the snake on it had bitten her, and frowned, unfolding her mother's letter.

_Darling Ayr;_

_It was only a matter of time until you started pressing about your father. I can honestly tell you that I do not know where he is now, but I do know that he loved both you and I very much, and that if the situation allowed him to, he would have been here to watch you blossom into the beautiful, independent girl you are now. _

_These are the few belongings of his that I still have of your father's. I'm sure by now, you've noticed that the scarf belongs to a Slytherin, and I ask that you do not carry prejudices against your father, for he was not the same as the men you may encounter from that house now. The letters I've put in the box were written between your father and I – they begin during our final year at Hogwarts, and end the year after you were born._

_I hope this may answer some questions that you have, Ayr. Whatever opinions you may form from reading those letters, just remember that both your father and I love you very much._

_Warm wish from home,_

_Mum_

Ayr frowned softly, realizing that her mother had completely avoided answering the question about her father's identity. She shrugged, figuring she would probably find out in the letters – if she decided to read them. She heard a masculine chuckle behind her, and she stiffened, turning to find Malfoy looking over her shoulder.

"Look at this, boys," He called over his shoulders to his goon squad, picking up the scarf and holding it over his head. "It seems Trikk is appropriately named! What's wrong, Trikk – didn't you want people to know that you have _something_ worth mentioning about your family?"

Ayr felt her face grow red, but it wasn't with embarrassment. Her eyes traveled up the length or Malfoy's body, and when they finally came to rest on his face, she stood slowly, matching his gaze with hers. Before she could stop herself, she raised her hand and slapped Malfoy, watching with a sneer as his hand jumped to his reddening cheek. Ignoring the gasps in the room, Ayr snatched the scarf from him, and leaned in towards his face.

"There is _nothing_ worth mentioning about my family," She hissed dangerously. "_Especially_ now that I know they have something in common with _you_, you loathsome… _cretin_."

Ayr whirled around, slamming the scarf into the box, picking up the package, and storming out of the Great hall. Her arms shook as they held the box in front of her, and the first thing she wanted to do was burn the damn thing.

_All Slytherins are the same_, mum, Ayr thought snidely. _And if my father was anything like _Malfoy_, I'm glad I've never met him – and I'm surprised _you_ don't hate him._

She wished she hadn't thought that last part – she quickly closed her mind to the images trying to break into her thought train. Ayr pressed her free hand to the bridge of her nose, leaning against the wall at the foot of the Grand Staircase. She shivered, feeling a headache coming on; whether it was from the images trying to break her down, or the effort of trying to keep them out, she didn't know. Taking a breath to steady herself, Ayr continued up the stairs and into the Gryffindor Common Room.

Once in the dorm room, she threw the box on her bed. She whirled on her heel, pacing angrily around the circle of the dorm. She kept throwing glances at the incriminating box on her bed, but she didn't near it. Her eyes jerked up as Isis walked into the room, her eyes wide with anxiety when she shut the door behind her.

"I've never seen you so worked up before," The girl observed, sitting on Ayr's bed and picking through the box. She opened the letter from Ayr's mother and her eyebrows rose. "So your father was a Slytherin – what's the big deal?"

"The _big deal_," Ayr scoffed, pointing at the scarf, "Is that all Slytherins grow up to be evil, wicked, conniving… _bastards_. It all makes sense now, Isis – my father never left because of his _job_. My father left because he wanted as much power as he could get, and that plan of action had no room for a wife and a daughter."

"Ayr, listen to yourself, would you?" Isis started leafing through the letters Ayr's parents had written. "He obviously loved your mother – you wouldn't be here if he didn't. Besides, what's the worst that he could have done with his life coming out of Slytherin – become a politician?"

Isis laughed softly at her own joke, but Ayr rolled her eyes and placed a finger on her chin, mocking serious thought.

"Perhaps he could – and, this sounds crazy – be a follower of You-Know-Who," Ayr's eyebrows shot up and she faked a gasp, as if the idea were preposterous. "They're _all_ attached to Him in some way. Slytherins are evil – who better to serve an evil wizard than other evil wizards?"

Isis didn't say anything, but paused when two papers fell out of the bundle of letters. She picked up what looked like postcards, and turned them over to look at the back before handing them to Ayr.

"Look at these."

Ayr rolled her eyes, took the paper, and paused. She was looking down at two pictures. The first one was unfamiliar to her – at least, it was unfamiliar to her when she was awake. The man's face was stoic and stern, his eyes dark and dangerous. His hair fell in dark waves over his forehead, and something tickled the inside of Ayr's stomach. She dragged her eyes away from the man in her dreams, and looked at the second photograph.

The three figures smiling and waving at the photographer were familiar to her, but were from a different lifetime. Her mother was standing with a baby – Ayr – on her hip. She would pick up Ayr's arm, make her wave to the camera, and then look lovingly at the man standing with his arm around her. His hair was a bit shorter in this picture, but Ayr recognized the man from both the other picture and her dream.

Ayr opened the truck at the foot of her bed, shoved the pictures under some clothes, and slammed the lid down, sitting on it with an irritated exhale. Isis was watching her with an eyebrow raised, and held the letters out to Ayr, who sneered.

"I don't want those. I'm going to burn the lot of it," She grumbled, taking the letters and tossing them over her shoulder, where they landed softly on her pillow. "My mother's the sweetest woman in the world – how could she fall in love with a _Slytherin_?"

Isis shrugged. "You should read them. Maybe – and this is a maybe, mind you – he _was_ different, like she said. Not all Slytherins are the same, Ayr."

The girl bristled at her friend's words, her skin tightening as it prickled with goose bumps.

"Speaking of Slytherins that we deplore," Isis began haughtily, standing up and checking the clock on the wall of the dorm. "Don't you have a meeting with the Prefects tonight?"

Ayr's palm came up to meet her forehead. How could she have forgotten the Tuesday meeting? She groaned, hiding her face in her hands and sighing dramatically. How was she supposed to sit in the same room with Malfoy after she had just slapped him?

_Even if he _did_ deserve it_, Ayr thought with a sneer.

She picked up a notebook, a quill, and a small ink pot, and slid them into a small shoulder bag. She began following Isis out of the dorm, but something made her turn her head. Spotting the letters on her pillow, she groaned. She hurried to her bed, slid the bundle of letters into her bag, and made her way to the Great Hall to suffer through the meeting with the prefects.

* * *

_My Brave Lioness;_

_The nights are the worst. Men do not stay up and _gossip_, as I've heard women are prone to do. I cannot say this bothers me, for I'm not sure what I have in common with these boys, anyway. We come from power, from money, and from noble bloodlines. We are not at the age, however, to worry about who the best mate is to keep the bloodline pure, so we are content to be silent when the lights go out._

_As I write this, I notice the moonlight as it falls on the snow. The world is pure tonight, blanketed in a white so clean, I almost don't want to look upon it in fear I may spoil it. I wonder what the view is like from your window – one that is not enchanted to show the outside, but one that simply _does_. I wonder if you're thinking of the purity of the snow, but then I remember that such pressing thoughts do not bother you. And that, my Lioness, is one of the many reasons that your delicate hands hold my heart._

_My mind is dwelling on Slughorn's upcoming holiday gala. I am still battling with the decision on whether I should go or not. It is customary to bring along a special guest, which I supposed is a simple enough request of a party-goer. The only woman I want by my side, I cannot have. It pains my heart to say such things, but standards must be met and appearances must be made. I have no idea why you're not bothered by the idea of our affair going public, but then I remember – once again – that your mind does not dwell on the things that mine does. _

_I must admit I'm under the impression that your mind is full of rainbows and unicorns – pleasant things, as a girl's mind _should_ dwell on. Women should not have to worry about the pressing matters of life as men do – women would be spoiled if they became as crass and cynical as men, and I do not think I should love you the same if you thought like a man. My retreat from the duties of my status comes in the form of your easy smile, and careless manner._

_Ah – I brood and digress._

_Until tomorrow, my Lioness, when I shall feel your skin beneath my fingertips, and the world will be a better place, if only for a few hours._

Ayr folded the letter up in time to see the last of the Prefects trailing out of the Great Hall, their heads together as they whispered about the topics discussed. Dumbledore had handed Ayr and Malfoy a list of things to consider – one of which had been a school ball. The girls – even pug-face Jennifer Ashton – had brightened instantly at the mention of a dance. Ayr, however, had spent the remainder of the meeting brooding; Dumbledore had requested that Ayr and Malfoy work closely together to narrow the list of considerations to three items on which the school could vote.

Ayr folded the letter, and stuck it back in its envelope, returning the letter to the back of the bundle. Sticking the letters in her bag, Ayr stood and adjusted the strap on her shoulder. She noticed Malfoy watching her from his seat as she left, and she suppressed the urge to slap him again. Throughout the meeting, the Prefects had been watching the two of them with the anticipation of a five-year-old hoping to see St. Nicholas. She had been all too relieved when the lights dimmed, signaling curfew – and the beginning of the Prefects' after-hour patrol.

Ayr walked to the Gryffindor Tower, climbing the stairs to the girls' dorm. She was so exhausted, she barely had the energy to change and crawl into bed. She was out as soon as her head hit the pillow, the scarf at her feet forgotten about for the night.


	4. Damage Control

**Chapter Four**

_(Damage Control)_

_Ayr and Sarah walked through the fourth floor corridors, just having left a meeting with Professor McGonagall. The girls chatted about the O.W.L.s they had taken last year, and the classes they hoped to take, now that they had found out their scores. Sarah wanted to be a healer at St. Mungo's upon graduation, and Ayr wanted to be an Auror. McGonagall had informed them of the scores needed to get into the classes required for their career choices, sending them off with study materials and a smile._

_Crabbe a Goyle rounded a corner as the girls neared the fourth floor exit to the Grand Staircase. They stood shoulder to shoulder, blocking the girls' path. Ayr sighed and ran a hand through her hair – she didn't have the patience to deal with this tonight._

"_Move," She said flatly, trying to push past them. They didn't budge. "I said _move_."_

_Once again, Ayr and Sarah tried to move past them. Crabbe and Goyle moved, seeming to swell and block the entire archway. Goyle reached out and gripped Ayr's arm, and she shouted her protest._

"_Malfoy wants to see you," Crabbe started slowly. "Now, in the empty classroom on the third floor."_

"_Did it ever occur to _Malfoy_," Ayr snapped, snatching her arm out of Goyle's grip, "That _we_ don't want to see _him_?"_

"_Not the two of you," Goyle barked, sneering. "Just you. He said, "Bring Trikk here, alone, and be quick about it."_

_Ayr snorted her amusement – Crabbe and Goyle were slow with everything they did. She didn't blame them though – if they acted faster than they could think, they might cause themselves a brain aneurism. She looked at the two boys, wondering what Malfoy could have _possibly_ wanted with her._

"_Fine," She said before she could stop herself, crossing her arms._

"_Ayr…" Came Sarah's soft warning at her shoulder._

"_Go back to the Common Room, Sarah," She smiled at her friend, and then turned to the boys in front of her. "I'll be fine. I'm sure Malfoy has more common sense then to pull something when there are still teachers lurking around."_

_Ayr followed Crabbe and Goyle down the stairs, waving to Sarah who stood staring after them with wide eyes. Her friend finally turned and darted up the stairs towards the Gryffindor Tower, and Ayr turned to face forward, her scowl telling Crabbe and Goyle exactly what she thought of this impromptu meeting._

_The classroom came up on their left, and Crabbe held the door open while Goyle pushed Ayr into the room. She heard soft, even breathing, and looked over to where Malfoy was leaning against a long forgotten fireplace. _

"_Thank you, Crabbe…Goyle," He nodded curtly, stepping away from the wall. "You may go now."_

_The boys returned the curt nod and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind them. Ayr watched them leave, swallowing the lump that had just formed in her throat. She turned with a start when Malfoy's robes whispered and he pulled out his wand. She grabbed hers, pointing at him. He tilted his head, his brows raised, as he indicated to and empty spot in the room and conjured a couch. He pocketed his wand, holding up his hands as a show of innocence._

"_Sit down, Ayr."_

_Malfoy had never referred to Ayr by her first name and the reference made her stomach tighten uncomfortably. She had seen Malfoy angry before, and it was not a side she wante to see directed at her, so she made her way towards the couch. _

Maybe he'll decide to _not_ be a prat_, Ayr thought to herself, looking for a reason to stop being nervous. _After all – he sent his lackeys away – doesn't he normally keep them around to witness the humiliation of some poor victim?

_Ayr nodded to herself, satisfied with her optimism. She settled herself on the edge of the couch, smoothing her skirt out on her crossed legs. Malfoy watched her with an arched eyebrow, and she shivered under his scrutiny._

"_Are you cold?"_

_She nodded, despite herself, telling herself it was better to lie and sweat to death than be honest and have him know he frightened her. Malfoy brandished his wand again, pointed it at the hearth, and muttered an incantation. A moment later, a fire roared to life, the gentle crackling of the wood doing wonders to ease the uncomfortable silence. Ayr relaxed a bit, grateful to be around a Charms expert._

"_Thank you," She muttered._

_She turned her eyes to the fire, staring into the flames. She was trying to ignore the feeling of Malfoy's eyes on her, and it took all she had to suppress a shudder. She finally turned to him, ready to either tell him off or demand he tell her why she was here, but the look in his eyes stopped her. The ice was gone, and replacing them was a heat that bothered Ayr much more than his frosty glare did._

"_If I asked you something," He began whimsically, as if telling a joke. "Would you answer me truthfully?"_

_Ayr was slightly aware that her mouth was open in shock, but she quickly recovered by sneering. She snorted her disgust, and then answered him bitterly._

"_If it will get me out of here quickly, then yes."_

_His brow furrowed, as if he were searching for the right words to say. Ayr turned away from him, scoffing slightly in bemusement. Her eyes watched the flamed, and something touched under her chin. She jumped, thinking it was Malfoy's wand, and when she turned to face him, she saw that it wasn't his wand at all. His finger had touched her chin in an attempt to turn her to face him, and it had worked – somewhat. _

_His lips touched hers, and she stiffened at the uncharacteristic action. She waited a heartbeat, and then two, and when she realized she wasn't dying, in pain, or being threatened, she closed her eyes and let herself relax._

_Something tickled Ayr's stomach, and she would have passed it off as butterflies if the sensation weren't moving. She lifted her hand to find the cause, and realized that Malfoy's hand was wandering along her torso, moving under her shirt and towards her chest._

"_What are you _doing_?"_

_Ayr jumped up with her exclamation, straightening her shirt and making a beeline for the door. Malfoy jumped up and blocked her way, reaching behind him to lock the door. He stalked towards her, backing her up step by step until the back of her knees hit the couch, and her legs gave out. She landed hard, wincing as the pain shot up her spine, momentarily paralyzing her. The breath rushed out of her lungs as Malfoy pressed his mouth to her ear._

"_Poor Ayr Triik," He hissed, his hands gripping the couch by her head and trapping her. "Not so mouthy when you're by yourself, are you?"_

_She spat on his cheek, and he wiped it off with a slow, deliberate movement before gripping her shoulders, forcing her to lie flat on the couch. She tried to hit him, but Malfoy laid flat on her, holding her hands above her head with one of his. His knee slid up between her thighs, and he placed three fingers between two buttons of her crisp uniform shirt. He pulled, and Ayr's body jerked with the force as the button popped, exposing her chest. She sobbed softly, but Malfoy swallowed the sound with his mouth._

_His tongue darted out to catch the tears, and Ayr sobbed harder. Then she stiffened – she could hear footfalls in the hallway, growing louder and heavier. Someone shouted a spell, and the door burst open. The Marauders fell into the room, their wands ready and pointing at Malfoy, who looked over his shoulder with a sneer._

"_You have two seconds to get off of her," Potter hissed, "Or I take away your ability to reproduce."_

_Malfoy sneered again, pulling out his wand and pointing it at Potter. Ayr shrieked as a beam of white light left the end of Malfoy's wand, sending Potter flying backwards before landing with a sickening thud against the wall. Sirius and Remus shouted in unison, one of them knocking Malfoy's wand away while the other sent him flying into the ceiling. Ayr watched with wide, vacant eyes as his body fell, limp, to the floor._

_She bolted upright as soon as her body unlocked itself, straightening her skirt and pulling her top closed. Remus rushed over to her, taking off his school robe and placing it over Ayr's shoulders. She nodded her thanks, not trusting her voice to speak. Sirius touched her shoulder softly, and when she saw the concern in his eyes, her walls broke and she cried, leaning on her friend for support._

Ayr's eyes flew open, and the ceiling seemed a perfect screen for the images still in her head to play out on. Her face felt odd – tight and dry – and she lifted her fingers to it. They came away wet, and she realized she had been crying. She tried repeating her mantra of the past six months – _nothing happened_ – but it wasn't working this time. She shoved her fist into her mouth to keep her from screaming, but she could feel the bile rising in her throat.

She stood and stumbled, making her way blindly into the bathroom. The floor rushed to meet her as she collapsed, and the toilet was in front of her face just before the vomit left her stomach. All of the contents had vacated her stomach, but she still couldn't make herself stop. First, the bile burned her throat, and then the dry heaves made her body ache.

Ayr stood and went to the sink, rinsing her mouth out repeatedly before looking at herself in the mirror. She looked as bad as Potter had yesterday at dinner – her skin was pale and waxy, and her eyes looked bruised and swollen. She groaned, trying to remember the concealer spell that her older sister had found in _Witch's Weekly_. Wracking her brain, she reached behind her and turned on one of the showers; she felt dirty and slimy, and there was a thin coat of perspiration that made her feel grungy.

Once the water was the right temperature, she shed her clothes and put them in the house keeping basket. She stepped into the stream of water, hissing as her body adjusted to the heat. She shampooed and conditioned her hair, and scrubbed her body three times. She still didn't feel completely clean, but it was better than being covered in grime and memories of good-for-nothing prats.

She grabbed a towel off of the shelf outside of the stall, wringing her hair out first and then patting her body dry. She wrapped the towel around her and made her way into the bedroom. She dug through the trunk at the foot of her bed, scowling when she came to the two pictures she had thrown in there yesterday evening. She ignored them, pulled out a fresh uniform, and dressed, towel drying her hair one last time before running her brush through it. Figuring enough time had passed to be safe, Ayr went to the bathroom, and brushed her teeth. As she entered her bedroom again, she groaned to herself – the sun hadn't even started to rise yet.

Knowing that sleep was beyond her now, Ayr left the girl's dormitory and then the Common room. She had no destination in mind, but when her feet stopped moving, she was in front of the Great Hall. Shrugging to herself, she pushed the massive door open – easily, to her surprise – and entered the expansive room. Making her way over to the Gryffindor table, she ignored the bench in favor of lying in the middle of the table. Her eyes locked on the enchanted ceiling, and she smiled softly – the stars were beautiful that night.

Ayr wasn't sure how much time had actually passed – the ceiling was turning that steel gray color that only occurs before the sun rises. A soft groaning pulled her attention away from the ceiling, and towards the opening door of the Great Hall. She seethed when Malfoy entered, and swung her legs around so that she was sitting on the table.

"Must you ruin every moment of peace I ever have?"

Malfoy looked up, his eyes wide as if she had caught him off guard. He composed himself, forming his face into his normal mask of arrogance, and walked easily into the Great Hall. She watched him warily, still shaken from the dream that had broken through her defenses. His eyebrow jumped up towards his hairline, and Ayr narrowed her eyes.

"I was under the impression that Hogwart's only housed one insomniac," He called, his voice light as if she should be honored that he would speak to her.

"I would be sound asleep if I weren't having nightmares about you, you insufferable rat," She hissed, her eyes narrowed dangerously.

Malfoy stopped suddenly, and Ayr could have sworn she saw first surprise, and then pain, flash through his eyes. Whatever it was she thought she had seen was quickly replaced by mock amusement, his lips curving into his signature smirk.

"Don't you get enough of me during school hours?" He asked – Ayr wanted to smack that arrogant smirk off of his face. "Now you have to dream about me as well?"

Ayr stood, and neared him. _Show him no fear,_ she commanded, deciding to make it her new mantra. He sneered down at her, but there was something in the depths of his eyes that Ayr couldn't name. He was almost a head taller than her, but that didn't stop her from meeting his eyes with determination.

"I don't like you, Malfoy," She spat, dangerously quiet. "I despise you and the very ground you walk on. The fact that you are Head Boy and I am Head Girl changes nothing – it just means I have to restrain myself from slapping you in front of the others."

Malfoy's eyes darkened and he lost his smirk, anger painting his features dangerously.

"That was a onetime only free pass, _Trikk_." He spat her last name, making her want to wince. "I'll advise you to not let it happen a second time."

"Or what?" She hissed back at him. "You'll catch me in a dark classroom all alone again?"

Shock, or surprise, blanched Malfoy's features, and his mouth opened as if he were about to argue with her. He snapped it closed again, his jaw tightening and his temple swelling with the pressure. His face finally conformed back into his normal cynical sneer, but the surprise didn't leave the depths of his eyes.

"I haven't a clue what you're talking about," He deadpanned.

Ayr snorted her disgust, and debated on stomping on his foot. Instead, she met his eyes again, matching his sneer with one of her own.

"Of course you don't, you loathsome prat."

Seething, Ayr stormed out of the Great Hall, marching up to the Gryffindor Common Room. She looked around and then groaned – she had made a complete circle. She sighed, climbing the stairs to the girls' dormitory. The soft snoring of her friends greeted her, but did little to better her mood. Flopping on her bed, Ayr rooted through her shoulder bag until she found the bundle of letters. Eyeing them warily, she snorted and pulled the next one off of the pile.

"Alright, _dad_," She sneered to herself. "Show me that you're different."

_Darling Snake;_

_The hour is late, and I cannot sleep. This evening was the first night you told me of your love for me. I apologize, for saying nothing in return must have seemed quite inappropriate, but I do hope you understand in lieu of the circumstances. _

_You see, my mind is _not_ full of rainbows and unicorns, though I imagine it would be a more pleasant world if it were. In fact, at this moment, I am tossing your words over in my mind, and I am wondering how I should be reacting. Part of my heart wants to leap from my chest in joy, for your love is undoubtedly returned. There is another part, however, that insists on reminding me why our affair is kept secret in the first place._

_For the past year, this hump-backed witch has served as our literary rendezvous point. We refer to each other only by our House lest our letters be intercepted by an unwanted third party, and you worry _so_ about appearances. My heart wants to love you, darling, but my mind must question your motives._

_Your house works for power, which it gains through fear and threats. You yourself long for this power – don't think I don't hear about the things you say, the things you do when I'm not around. I cannot blame you – that is why you were put into Slytherin to begin with, after all. But try to see this from my eyes – I am a good enough woman for you to love, and write secret letters to, and meet secretly in the Forbidden Forest. I am not good enough, however, to hold your hand in the hallway, to kiss you goodnight after dinner, or to smile at you from across the classroom._

_A year, Snake, you have asked me to be patient while your sorted out your personal affairs, to make it _easier_ for our affair to become a public one. A year I have waited._

_I cannot wait anymore._

Ayr stared at the letter in her hand, and almost forgot who she was reading about. She felt as if she were reading one of those American romance novels, and felt like yelling at the writer to take the Snake back. Then she remembered that the writer was her mother, and that the Snake wanted to hide their love for status purposes.

She sneered, and was glad her mother had put her foot down. Ayr then noticed the rest of the letters on her bed, and sighed. Apparently, her mother's foot hadn't stayed down. She folded the letter in her hand, returned it to its envelope, and tucked the letter in the back of the pile. Shrugging, she pulled the next letter off of the pile, opened it, and began to read.

_This letter will be delivered to you by way of owl, for I did not know whether you would feel compelled to return to our usual drop-off location._

_My beloved Lioness, I have been blind to your feelings and insensitive to your thoughts. I would like, very much, to tell you that you have changed my mind, and that I will immediately declare my love to you publically, but I cannot. Before you stop reading, however, please know that there are many reasons I cannot allow our love affair to become public. There are forces at work, much greater than either you or I, and I cannot risk you getting involved. Please do not ask what these forces are, for I'm afraid that I cannot answer you honestly at this time._

_Please believe, my Lioness, that everything will be revealed in due time. It is _then_ that I can claim you as my own, and no sooner. The question remains, however, of whether or not you shall want to claim me as yours when this time comes. You have won my heart, though I question how, every day. How did a cold, power-hungry Slytherin legacy become so enraptured by a fiery, compassionate Gryffindor such as yourself? It has made me feel weak, vulnerable, soft even – but above all, it has made me feel very blessed._

_Awaiting your response,_

_Snake._


	5. Wake Up Call

**Chapter Five **  
_(Wake Up Call)_

The first month of school had passed, bringing with it a new chill in the air; it embedded itself in Ayr's bones as she flew, the wind doing nothing to help her stay warm as she pushed through it on her broom.

She heard Washburn behind her, shouting obscenities as the Slytherin's Catcher chased after them, attempting to get the Quaffle by any means necessary. Those means including, Ayr realized as she heard Jessiey's shriek of rage, trying to knock the Gryffindor Catchers off of their brooms in an attempt to get the quaffle. Ayr was on the verge of hexing them, but a shrill whistle caused her to look up and smirk – their reinforcements had come, taking the form of the two Gryffindor Beaters and their clubs.

"Washburn! Do you remember practice last week?" She shouted over the sound of wind in her ears. At his nod, she smirked and then nodded to Jessiey. "Then it's time to get the hell out of _Dodge_!"

The three Gryffindors split up, letting Sirius and Jack Rushing breech their triangle. Ayr heard the sickening but satisfying thud of the bludger as it hit someone's arm – accidentally, of course – and smirked at the groan behind her. She faced forward, following Jessiey as the three made a beeline for Slytherin's goal posts. Parkinson watched their approach with a sneer, and Ayr winked as she caught the quaffle, holding it just long enough for Parkinson to fly to the other side of the goals. She tossed it to Washburn, who quickly threw it through the far right goal. Ayr couldn't help it – her fist pumped the air, and she let out a shout of victory.

She ducked as two blurs of color whipped her hair around her. Her eyes followed Potter as he and Malfoy raced after the golden Snitch. She caught herself mumbling encouraging words to Potter, and followed her team mates down the pitch, chasing after the Slytherin Catchers. Jessiey and Washburn flanked the Catcher with the quaffle, and Jessiey slammed into his side, Washburn ready and waiting when the quaffle flew into his hands.

The raced down the pitch, the quaffle passing easily between the three of them. Ayr caught the ball as they neared the posts, pulling her broom to a stop and tossing the quaffle between her two hands. She watched Parkinson's eyes as they followed the quaffle in the air, and she suddenly tossed it to Jessiey, who threw it into the middle goal.

"Another ten points for Gryffindor, making their lead 80 to 30!" The announcer called, his tone clearly revealing that he was rooting for Gryffindor.

Ayr's eyes darted around, looking for Potter, but the Gryffindor Seeker had disappeared. She gritted her teeth, feeling the tension in her jaw as the three Catchers once again took after the Slytherins. Things were getting dangerous, Ayr observed as she dodged an approaching bludger that Nicholas Pyles, one of Slytherin's Beaters – had sent her way. She cursed, ducking and cursing again as the gap between herself and the quaffle she had worked to close just opened again.

Washburn's stream of curses floated back on the wind, and Ayr noticed him holding his arm to his body. She hadn't even noticed the bludger headed his way, and frowned as she noticed him favoring his other arm. After a moment or two, she sighed with relief as he stretched his injured arm – it appeared that it wasn't broken, after all.

With renewed determination, Washburn leaned forward, his broom cutting through the air quicker now that he was more aerodynamic. She followed his lead, lying flat against the handle of her broom – she sliced through the air, feeling the determination in the set of her jaw. Patrick Harris, the Slytherin Catcher with the quaffle, shot her a glance over his shoulder before trying to knock her out of his way. She grunted, barrel-rolling to dodge his shoulder, and then doing it again in the other direction to slam her shoulder into her. She ignored the pain shooting through her arm as she caught the ball.

Jessiey's howl of victory made her smirk as she turned her broom around, leaning forward to put as much distance between her and the Slytherin Catchers as she could. She looked around and then growled in frustration as two of them came up on her sides, the other behind her. She pressed flat against her broom, but it wasn't helping much.

"Ayr! Drop it!"

She looked below her to see Jessiey, one of her arms extended and reaching for the ball. Ayr lowered towards the ground a bit before releasing the quaffle, almost pumping her fist into the air when Jessiey caught it and took off towards Slytherin's goal post. Washburn flew down from overhead, following and guarding her as she dodged a bludger. The two split up and Ayr watched as Jessiey tossed the quaffle to Washburn. His tongue poked out of his mouth, his brow tensed in determination, and threw the ball through the far left goal.

"Another goal for Gryffindor, who are now leading 90 to 30!" The announcer pulled away from the microphone as students started pointing. Ayr heard him laugh softly before calling out again. "Potter and Malfoy are coming back into the pitch, folks. Potters hands are held high – does he… Yes, I believe her does – _Potter has caught the Snitch! The game goes to Gryffindor!"_

Ayr punched the air with her fist, taking a victory lap around the pitch with her teammates.

* * *

_Are you still upset with me?..._

_I've apologized profusely time and time again, my Lioness…_

_I suppose now we can get on with forgiving each other and snogging senselessly?_

_**You're an insufferable git. You have nothing to forgive me for – I'm not the one who has been so reluctant to show people I'm **_**not**_** a heartless beast. It's been three months – aren't you tired of getting glares as responses yet?**_

_It isn't that way at all – you _know_ there are reasons that I have to keep our affair hidden. Please, darling – it is for your own good. And the fact that you are glaring means that you still care – though you'll never admit to it._

_**How do you know what's good for me, slimy Snake? I am not some delicate daisy that can be torn apart by… dirty looks and horrid whispers.**_

_It is neither the looks nor the whispers that would hurt you, my rose._

_**Then what is it? You must be an expert, since each refusal to publically claim me wounds my heart with a fresh pain.**_

_I… can't tell you yet. You know that. I'm sorry, but… it's not time yet._

_**WHEN? When will it be time, **_**love**_**? How can you expect me to sit idly by while you hide me? I can't ignore the glances your way – even now, Walburga Black is giving you those eyes. How much longer shall I wait to claim you as my own, and be claimed as yours?**_

_I haven't the time or concern for Walburga Black's eyes. The only eyes I care for are hazel… and currently glaring at me from the table across from me._

_**Don't think that smile meant that I'm not upset with you.**_

_Of course not, my love. I'm sure you were smiling at Professor Slughorn's ridiculous suit this afternoon._

…_**When, Tom?**_

_Soon, my love. Very soon. We will finish our schooling in two months, we will marry, and we will live a life that American romance novels will envy. This I promise to you, Diane Trikk, with all I have to promise with. Please… do not walk away and leave a love to die. Please give me another chance to prove to you that I value you, that I _need_ you. Please, Dee… meet me tonight, on our bed of leaves in the Forest. Please?_

…_**After the meeting with the Prefects, then. Oh, and Tom – you are **_**not**_** off of the hook yet.**_

_I love you too, Diane._

Ayr folded up the note, and tucked it behind the other letters. She had read at least fifteen since receiving the parcel from her mother, and this was the first one that used names rather than Houses. She frowned, realizing that she was named with her mother's maiden name – did that mean that her parents had never married? She leaned her chin on her hand and frowned.

Excluding the first two letters she had read – and one from her mother, telling her lover to bugger off – all of the letters had been from her father. She hadn't learned much; he repeated that he loved her, but that he couldn't involve her in his affairs, out of fear for her safety. If it had been anyone else, Ayr would have thought the gesture sweet – romantic, even. Because it was her dead-beat, Slytherin father, however, she thought it was an excuse and a lie.

Her head jerked up as the door to the Great Hall swung open noisily. She grimaced as Malfoy pushed through the doors, sliding the bundle of letters into her shoulder bag before he could see them. It was bad enough she had agreed to meet him before their normal Tuesday meeting, to go over the list of school activities Dumbledore had given them a month ago. She didn't need him getting on her case about reading letters between her troubled parents.

"Ah, there's my favorite Trikk-ster."

"Shove off, git," She grumbled, pulling her body into itself as much as she could.

"Now, now, Ayr," He muttered, his eyebrow quirked as he sat down across from her. "Play nicely."

Ayr glared at him, but didn't respond; Malfoy's use of her first name sent shivers down her spine, constricting her vocal cords. She pushed her discomfort aside, and put a scowl on her face. _Show him no fear_, she repeated in her mind, swallowing the last of her discomfort. Ayr pulled the list from Dumbledore out of her shoulder bag and slammed it on the table between them.

"Touchy today, I see."

Ayr met Malfoy's cynical eyes with hers, and she sneered so well that if Malfoy didn't hate her, he may have been proud.

"Let's just get this over with," She hissed, pointing at the list. "Obviously, the school dance is the most popular choice. I think we need to find something geared more towards the boys. Last time I checked, boys didn't care too much for doing their hair and fussing over their appearance. At least…" She glanced at Malfoy with a smirk. "Not most of them."

"Har, har," He snorted, a very un-Malfoy thing to do. "I was thinking that the rugby game might be a good idea. It's more oriented towards the men, and it's a sport for those less… handy with the broom."

The smirk on his face made her hand itch with the urge to slap him again. She scowled, more at herself than at the prat across from her. Ayr scolded herself silently, berating herself for her lack of emotional control around him. He frightened her and angered her, but interested and entertained her.

Ayr blinked, scowled again, and wanted to slap _herself_.

"Fine," She seethed, putting a check mark next to the suggestion. "The rugby game is an option. What else?"

Malfoy's eyes scanned the list, his brow furrowing in concentration. The absence of a scowl transformed him into a completely different person, and Ayr almost forgot who she was sitting with for a few sweet seconds. A comfortable silence descended on the massive Great Hall, and when Malfoy looked up at her, the ice in his eyes was gone. She shivered, and was greatly disturbed when it wasn't completely from disgust.

_Get a grip, Trikk. He's a foul, loathsome Slytherin. Remember last year – _that_ is who Malfoy is, not a quiet thinker that gets along with Gryffindors._

Squirming slightly in her seat, Ayr dropped her eyes and scanned the list herself. The silence became awkward – in her mind, at least, and she cleared her throat to disrupt the silence. The sound echoed back in the empty room, reminding Ayr that they were the only two in the Hall. She suppressed a shiver, even more disgusted with herself when she realized that this one, as well, hadn't stemmed from her loathing of Malfoy.

"Cold, Trikk?"

_Are you cold, Ayr?_

Her eyes snapped to his face, and she knew that her face was blank. Her shock seemed to surprise Malfoy, whose ever-present sneer slid off of his face. Ayr imagined herself looking something like a deer caught in the headlights, and shook herself out of her stupor.

"What else?" She repeated, staring at the list.

Malfoy was silent, and when she glanced up, she saw that his eyes were trained on her face, curiosity and concern reflected in the steel blue of his eyes.

_Concern? _She scoffed at herself. _He's trying to figure out why you're so jittery tonight, so he can use it against you. Don't start acting stupid – you're scared of him, remember? This is Malfoy, not some lost puppy dog who nipped a bit too hard out of fright. He ripped your arm off out of spite._

Finally, Malfoy seemed to snap out of whatever daze he had been in. He shook his head quickly and painted his face with his signature sneer, rolling his eyes at her question – or confusion, whichever. He sighed, as if this task was beneath him, and waved a hand dismissively.

"The school scavenger hunt," He announced, his tone making it clear how boring he thought this was.

"Scavenger hunt?" Ayr was surprised – it wasn't something she thought he would have chosen. She leaned back and thought about it, nodding. "Something to involve students of every year and House… That's not a bad idea, actually."

"It would give all of the students a chance to interact with each other," Malfoy added, nodding along with Ayr. "The most the years interact with each other is at meals and – maybe – in their common rooms before bed."

"I think it's a marvelous idea," Ayr corrected her previous statement, circling the suggestion on the list and nibbling on the end of the quill. "A little bit of healthy competition never harmed anyone."

"Just promise not to get your knickers in a twist when Slytherin claims the prize," Malfoy smirked, quirking his brow at Ayr.

"Oh, _do_ shut up," She scoffed, pointing her quill at him. "First of all, there isn't even a prize _set_. That's _our_ job – to coordinate the three events we choose. _Second_ of all, you arrogant ass, Slytherin won't be claiming anything but a box of tissues and some bandages for their wounded pride when _Gryffindor_ wins."

Malfoy snorted, and Ayr almost liked the casual sound coming from him. He leaned forward on his elbows, and Ayr swallowed her fear, mimicking him. They stretched across the table, their noses mere inches from each other and their eyes locking. His were amused; hers were fearless.

"Is that a challenge, Trikk?" His eyebrow rose questioningly.

"No," She replied, smirking. She closed the gap between them, her nose almost touching Malfoy's. "That's a promise."

Malfoy leaned back and laughed, and the sound was so unnatural that it caused Ayr to jump. He placed his elbows back on the table, something glittering in his eyes. If one would have asked, Ayr would have swore she saw a genuine smile on Malfoy's face. He grinned cheekily, his eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline.

"Care to place a wager? Say… 300 house points?"

"We can't bet with house points," She snorted, "They're not just ours to bet with. We _can_ make that the reward of the scavenger hunt, however… That makes things a little more interesting."

"That neglects to satisfy the _wager_," Malfoy smirked, his eyes glinting with something akin to anticipation. "If Slytherin wins, you'll go to dinner with me – and I don't mean walk into the Great Hall with me. We'll go into Hogsmeade, and we'll eat in a public restaurant."

Ayr almost choked on her disbelief.

"A _date_?" She snorted, trying not to laugh. "You want to go on a date – with me. Malfoy, you're going _soft_!"

Malfoy's smile slid from him face, and Ayr watched as the icy glint returned to his eye. It wasn't until that moment that she realized she had been carrying on an actual conversation with Malfoy – one that hadn't ended up with one of them cursing the other or unconscious. Ayr also realized in that moment that she was disappointed to see his walls lock back into place – she had been enjoying seeing him smile, she realized with an ounce of self-loathing.

"On the contrary, Trikk," He sneered, any trace of the Malfoy from merely seconds ago gone. "It will prove once and for all that even the most obstinate and insubordinate of women can be tamed."

His words stung as if he had slapped her, and she wasn't sure why. She berated herself for having let her guard down around him – he was the same Malfoy as before, after all. She was beginning to see that some people never changed – they simply had different masks. Ayr felt her body retract on itself, tensing as the anger rolled in her stomach.

"We'll finish this another day," She snapped, taking the list and shoving it into her shoulder bag. "I've got to use the lavatory before the Prefects get here."

She stood, but Malfoy reached out to grab her wrist. She bristled, turning to glare down into his arrogantly smiling face. She yanked her arm, but his grip on it was too tight for her to get loose. She narrowed her eyes dangerously.

"Let me go," She hissed. "_Now_."

Lucius Malfoy stood, and Ayr had to raise her chin to keep glaring at him. His mouth curled itself into a condescending smirk; Ayr felt the anger bite into her gut, and her free hand raised of its own accord. Before it touched his face, his other hand reached out, stopping her hand mid-strike. He tsked, shaking his head as if at a child.

"A wager needs two parties, Trikk." At Ayr's blank stare, Malfoy scoffed and continued. "You need to tell me what I owe you in the unlikely case that Gryffindor wins the scavenger hunt."

Ayr's face went slack as shock replaced her anger. Her arms lost their tension, and she felt like she was going to fall. Malfoy's rapidly changing facades had thrown her for a loop, and her head had begun to spin. She exhaled slowly as her equilibrium returned, and raised her eyes to meet Mafloy's. The coldness was still there, but behind it was something different… Something that Ayr wanted to identify as amusement. She set her jaw and looked at him squarely, her eyes holding his in determination; she needed to prove to herself now that Malfoy had no power over her.

"You owe me the truth," She replied, proud that her voice didn't crack.

"Pardon?"

"_When_ Gryffindor wins," she sneered, "I get to ask you three questions, and you have to answer with the complete truth."

Malfoy's eyebrow quirked and his mouth pulled itself into a smirk. He let go of her hands and leaned on the table, his fingers splayed. When Ayr met his eyes, she _knew_ that spark in the depths of them was amusement. It sent her stomach twisting into knots, and she bit down on her lip to keep her emotions in check.

"The truth?" He chuckled softly, leaning in close. "You've disappointed me, Trikk – I was hoping for something less… plain."

Ayr bristled and pulled away from him, grabbing her bag and hitching it onto her shoulder. She had half a mind to let Malfoy fend for himself with the Prefects, but she knew – in the rational part of her mind – that she couldn't do that. Instead, she made her way through the Great Hall, trying to ignore Malfoy's gaze on her as she left.

Walking into the lavatory near the Great Hall, she dropped her bag on the ground and stared at herself in the mirror. She turned the cold water on, cupping it into her hands and splashing her face with it. She dried her hands and scowled at her reflection.

_You're losing it, Trikk_, she scolded herself. _He is not your friend. He does not want to _be_ your friend. He will _never_ be your friend. He is a despicable cockroach, and you'd do well to remember that – and you'd probably live much longer, too._ _Oh, and the feeling in your stomach is known as "butterflies" – you did not eat butterflies, so there is no reason you should have them when looking at that git. Just remember that he was the one that hit the ceiling that night – and for good reason. In the back of your mind, you're thinking that he has two completely different personalities, and that would be a lie – he has one, and it's completely focused on gaining power. The look he gave you that made your knees go weak – that's about gaining power, too. Be the one thing he can't control, Ayr Trikk! And damn it, pull yourself together!_

"Wonderful," She sneered at her reflection. "I'm arguing with myself – could this get any worse?"

She picked up her bag and began making her way back towards the Great Hall, realizing that she had another two hours of Malfoy to get through.

_Yes_, she answered herself with a sigh. _Things could get worse._

_

* * *

_

"How was the meeting?"

Sarah was mumbling as the girls brushed their teeth. Ayr flicked her eyes to her friend's face in the mirror, and tried smiling around her toothbrush to reassure her friend. She succeeded in getting toothpaste on her chin, making Lily cackle next her. Ayr spit and rinsed her mouth out rinsing and drying her face as well. She fixed Lily with a playful glare.

"Lack of grace is nothing to laugh at, Evans."

Lily giggled and continued brushing her teeth. Sarah and Ayr made their way into the dorm room, welcomed by the soft breathing of three sleeping girls. Isis snorted softly in her sleep and Ayr had to clap a hand over her mouth to keep from waking them up with her giggles.

Digging in her trunk, she found the pair of pajamas that she was looking for. When she closed the lid and straightened, she saw Sarah sitting on the foot of her bed, looking at her with expectant eyes. Ayr shrugged, slipping out of her school robes and putting them in the house keeping basket.

"It went as well as can be expected."

"He didn't… _try_ anything, did he?"

Ayr slid her shirt over her head and fixed Sarah with a soft scowl. Sarah, Ayr had found out, had been the reason the Marauders had found her when and where they did. She had walked into the Common Room that night, cracking immediately when Sirius asked where Ayr had been.

"He isn't going to try anything, Sarah," Ayr assured her, slipping between her sheets. "I imagine a concussion and a few broken ribs are bound to teach even thick-headed _Malfoy_ a lesson."

Sarah nodded, but didn't say anything else. She slid into her own bed as Lily came in, immediately jumping into bed as well. Ayr flicked the switch by her bed, sighing in content as the room darkened. The girls bid each other good night, and Ayr rolled over so she could look out of the window in the dorm.

Long after the sounds of Sarah and Lily's deep, even breathing, Ayr was lying in bed, staring at the moon. She wondered what she would dream of that night – her father, perhaps. Her mind wandered to senseless things, such as when the first snowfall would be, and the essay due in Transfigurations that Friday, and the upcoming game between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw at the beginning of November.

Mostly, however, Ayr tried to stop wondering what Lucius Malfoy thought about while lying in bed at night.


	6. The Right Kind of Love

**A note from the author**: Thank you all for the wonderful reviews, both in the review box and in private messages. I'm glad this story turned out as well as it did – this was an old fanfiction of mine, and I finally got around to rewriting it. To my private reviewers: your criticism and encouragement have helped me more than you will know – thank you! **Cleverhearts**, thank you for being my beta reader, imagination motivator, and wonderful friend. **Flyingcrispi** – that guess about Malfoy was a very good one! However, I can't say yes, or no, so I'll simply remind you that Malfoy _is_ a git, and probably won't admit to anything that he's done to make his name look bad. Thank you so much for the reviews, and read on to find out – I promise within the next two chapters, you'll have your answer!

**Chapter Six  
**_(The Right Kind of Love)_

_Good morning, my beautiful graduate;_

_You're still asleep, and judging by the look on your face, I know you must be dreaming of pleasant things. I place my hand on your stomach, and I wonder if you're dreaming of our future, growing inside of you as I write this. _

_I haven't decided whether or not to give you this letter. Even in the process of writing it, I wonder if I should tell you everything, and then burn the letter before you ever lay eyes on it. I fear that the information recorded here – as little as it may be – is dangerous. It's a danger to not only the safety of you and our unborn child, but to our love and bond as husband and wife, as well. _

_I am afraid, Diane. I am afraid of the power surging through the world, passing unharnessed from one source to another. It has fallen into the wrong hands, and dangerous things could happen. Dangerous things _will_ happen, but for the sake of progress – for the sake of a better world. When I find fear in my heart, I simply remind myself that the world will be a better place for our child, and for our child's children. This thought does not dispel the fear, but it makes it easier to bear._

_I cannot expect you to understand – your ignorance is your precious gift and saving grace. As I watch you sleep, I know that the turn of events is coming on the wind. Watching you now, I no longer fear them – great things will happen, my love, and the world will be a greater place as a result. It will take time, but when the time is right, the change will be almost instantaneous. My body is wracked with chills at the mere thought of it._

_Sleep on, my love, and dream of a better world._

Ayr placed the letter in its envelope and tucked it behind the others. Snow had begun falling in London, blanketing the world in the white so pure that only snow could accomplish. She sighed and stared out the window of the girls dorm, leaning her head against the cool glass and looking out; the snow reflected the full moon, and Ayr remembered how late it was. She yawned as if to emphasize this realization, collecting her thoughts.

She had read over half of the letters in the past two months. She had learned that her parents had come to an awkward impasse – they were in love, but the secrets posed a problem for Ayr's mother. In the end, she had accepted her father's reasons for not telling, and had agreed to marry him. She hadn't taken his last name, however, at her father's request. The reason, of course, had been that sharing his family name would be dangerous for her and the baby – Ayr.

Things in Hogwarts were carrying on around her as well as expected in preparation for the holiday season. Malfoy and Ayr, along with the Prefects, had most of the events coordinated. The dance was to be held a week after students returned home from the Christmas holiday, the scavenger hunt tomorrow – the last day before students left for the holidays. Girls were giddy with excitement, and the men pretended not to care. The thought of the upcoming dance did little to lift Ayr's spirits – there was only one man that she wanted to go with, and he happened to be the biggest git in the world.

Her breath showed up on the glass, and she drew figures in the cloud on the window. She let her mind blank, not wanting to think about the moral dilemma raging inside of her. When she looked at her work on the window, she realized that the crudely drawn figure came too close to resembling Malfoy for her comfort. She used her sleeved to wipe the glass, and leaned closer when she noticed something moving on the ground below her.

Ayr blinked and rubbed her eyes, and even pinched herself to make sure that she hadn't fallen asleep. She looked again, and her previous sighting was confirmed – there was something moving by the Whomping Willow, and upon closer inspection, she saw three large figures, and something much smaller darting between their feet. As they moved closer, Ayr was able to make out more details – one of them was a ram – no, a stag. The other two larger ones were canine – one black and one gray. The smaller figure had to have been a rodent of some kind, but Ayr couldn't make it out enough to determine what kind.

She started as she looked at the canines again. The black one was clearly a dog, but the other's muzzle wasn't the right shape. His ears weren't pointed enough, and his body seemed a bit too large to be a dog – or wolf, for that matter. She noticed the flatness of the muzzle, and she had to bite back the scream that bubbled up into her throat.

_There's a werewolf coming towards Hogwarts!_

She fell away from the window, but her morbid curiosity compelled her to keep looking. The animals were getting closer, and she had to clap a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. Her hand tapped the window, and she mentally screamed as the animals stopped, their heads swiveling around. Satisfied that no one was around, they sat and waited. Ayr watched with bated breath, wondering what they were doing. They finally moved, though Ayr noticed it was more twitching than moving, and she almost threw up as she watched.

Where the four animals had sat now stood four men – four _familiar_ men, Ayr realized with a gasp – and where the werewolf had been, there was now a slightly stooped Remus Lupin. She couldn't stop the gasp from leaving her throat.

_You've lost it now, Trikk_, she yelled in her head. _The men in white will be here to take you to St. Mungo's any minute now._

"What's going on?"

Ayr looked over her shoulder at Sarah, who was staring through half-opened eyes. Ayr shushed her and waved a hand dismissively.

"Go back to sleep, Sarah."

Ayr couldn't have been sure if her friend heard her, but a minute later, Sarah's deep, even breathing joined the other girls'. Ayr turned to face out the window again, and her heart jumped to her throat when she realized the four Marauders looking up at her. Apparently they _had_ known where the earlier knock had come from. She nibbled her lip nervously and left the window, sliding between her warm sheets.

Deciding that there was nothing she could do about it tonight, Ayr closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep.

* * *

The list, made up by the teachers at Malfoy and Ayr's request, consisted of thirty items. Ayr sat in the Gryffindor common room with her other housemates as Lily magically made multiple copies of the list. The Gryffindors had decided that the best way to find everything in the quickest amount of time was to split the House up by year, with each year searching for a few items on the list.

They waited for the charm to be taken off of the door. In order to make things fair, Dumbledore had decided that after each House got their list, they would return to their common room for an hour to plan. The charm wouldn't release until that hour was over with, making sure that every House started searching at the same time.

Ayr watched as Lily handed two lists to each year, and Potter stood on one of the steps leading to the dorm. He clapped his hands and held them up, waiting until everyone looked at him before speaking.

"Alright, Gryffindors – this is it! We've got just a few minutes left before the portrait swings open, and then we claim this hunt as ours!" The Gryffindors hooted and hollered, and Ayr had to admit that for a git, Potter had charisma. "First years – you'll be looking for the first five items. Second years, the next five – so on and so forth. Seventh years – we have the last _ten_ items to look for, so speed is key! Stick together – only split up if you _absolutely_ know where to find the item! Other houses will probably have the same idea, so try not to go in order – if you see a member of another house, change directions and throw them off. Now, when that door opens, go out there and win this for Gryffindor!"

The students cheered, and turned at the sound of the portrait swinging open, surging forward like an army prepared for battle. They branched off at the Grand Staircase, each year going a different direction in search of their items. As they reached the second floor, Courtney stopped and pointed down the hall.

"We need a stereotypical witch," She reminded them breathlessly. "We can go to the library to find a picture of one!"

"Great," Isis smiled in encouragement, leading the way. "Good going, Court."

Ayr smirked as Potter made a comment about already having a stereotypical witch in their presence, and Lily turned to smack him. He pulled an abashed face, but as soon as she turned away from him again, Ayr caught him winking at his friends. It looked out of place on his tired, sallow face, but Ayr paid it no mind as they raced towards the library.

Surging into the grand room, they looked around, relieved to see that no other students had made it here yet. The group split; the girls made their way towards lore and myth, and the boys headed towards comedy. The only sound was the shuffling of books and turning of pages, minutes flying by in a furious rush. Finally, the thud of a hand on a table signaled victory.

"I've got it!"

The girls raced over to the Marauders, seeing Sirius bent over a book. They crowded around him, looking over his shoulder to see a translated play. Towards the center of the book were a few pages of character portraits – they girls giggled as they saw the one he was pointing to. The woman was old and wrinkled, her wild hair framing her plump face and abnormally large nose. The two warts on her chin and nose completed the perfect image of their sought-after stereotypical witch.

"This is perfect, Black," Jessiey smiled, patting him on the shoulder.

Ayr was the only to notice Sirius' blush creep us his neck as they turned to leave the library. Just near the door to the hallway, Sarah called out to them, holding up a small statue of a wide-eyed owl in flight. When they looked at her with questioning eyes, she sighed with exasperation and put it in the bag they had brought to carry their items.

"We need…" She trailed off as she took the list from Lily, and then pointed. "…'An ever-watchful guardian of the night'."

The group of Gryffindors beamed, and Ayr watched as Isis and Sarah clapped high-fives before leaving the library. Pausing for only a moment, they consulted the list and decided that the best place to find 'forbidden fruit' was in the small orchard in the middle of the forbidden forest. The boys opted to run there and find it, along with the 'animal's hunger symptom' from Hagrid's drooling dog, Fang. They ran towards the exit of the castle, leaving the girls as they headed for the Astronomy Tower to find 'twinkling eyes of night'.

As they left the second floor, the girls scowled when they recognized the approaching figures climbing the stairs. Malfoy smirked at them, his band of hopeless followers matching the girls' scowls. His eyes kept flicking towards the library, and Ayr wondered what he was looking for before sneering at him.

"It's good to know you've decided to play fairly, Malfoy," she grumbled, noticing but ignoring Sarah's nervous glances towards the Slytherin.

"Well, I've decided that the best way to win that date with you is to follow the rules, Trikk."

Nothing else was said; the Slytherins pushed past the girls, who immediately ran up the stairs. Sarah pulled on Ayr's sleeve, hissing into her ear as they ran.

"You agreed to a _date_ with him?" Ayr could hear the fear laced with the concern. "Have you lost your mind, Ayr? Remember -"

"I _remember_," Ayr cut her off before she could reveal the events to the other girls, who hadn't been told. "How could I forget? I didn't _agree_ to a date – we have a bet going. If Slytherin wins – which they won't, mind you, I have to go to dinner with him. In a public place in Hogsmeade, if you must know, so stop _worrying_, mother."

She hadn't meant to sound cross with her friend, but she couldn't help notice the way Sarah slowed her pace just a bit to fall away from her. Keeping the frown off of her face, Ayr followed her friends into the Astronomy Tower, immediately looking around for a portable replica of stars. She was beginning to get discourage – who knew it would be so hard to find stars in an astronomy tower? Just as she was about to scowl, Isis punched the air in victory and pointed.

"Look at the tapestry behind the desk," She exclaimed. "It's showing the constellations!"

The girls smiled at the small piece of fabric, charmed to rotate through the night sky as if someone were searching it with a telescope. Lily flicked her wand at it, and the tapestry detached itself from the wall, floating gracefully into Lily's hands. The red-head folded it and put it in the bag, beaming at her friends.

"'A girl's best friend'," Lily read from the list, frowning. "Any ideas on where to find something to turn in for _that_ one? Or _what_ to turn in, for that matter."

"Diamonds," said Jessiey and Courtney together, causing them to giggle.

"A dream," Isis said quietly, looking around as though she were afraid to say it.

"That's a brilliant idea," Ayr smiled at her long-time friend, and then frowned. "But how do we collect a dream to turn in?"

"Maybe it doesn't have to be the dream itself," Isis mused, now assured that her idea wasn't a complete loss. "Maybe it can be something to _symbolize_ the dream."

They all frowned, wracking their brains for any clue as to where to find a symbol of dreams. As they thought, they made their way out of the astronomy class, walking quickly to a destination they hadn't set yet. Ayr chewed her lip, every idea she came up with eventually posing a problem. She was scowling at her feet, and was about to suggest they move on to the next item when Lily spoke up.

"Morpheus!" She exclaimed happily. "He's the Greek god of dreams! There's a statuette of him in the History of Magic classroom!"

Giddy with excitement, the six girls once again found the Grand Staircase, racing down to the fourth floor. Ayr felt as if she was going to trip over her own feet, but she was too anxious to claim victory over Slytherin to slow down. They found the classroom, the others waiting outside while Lily ran to grab the statue of Morpheus. She came out of the classroom with the statuette held over her head, smiling proudly as she placed in the bag with their other items.

"What's next?" She asked Isis, who had been handed the list while Lily found the statue.

"Potter and his friends are getting the fruit and the drool," Isis mused while pulling a face, her eyes scanning the list. "Next would be 'a plant out of place', 'an insomniac's guide', and 'a sweet that's been snuck'."

After consulting with each other, the girls split up and agreed to meet in the third floor corridor in ten minutes. Lily and Sarah headed to the dungeons, recalling that the Potions professor often grew plants in the classroom to use for brewing. Jessiey and Courtney made their way to the Charms classroom – the candles used to practice levitation spells were their answer to the 'insomniac's guide' clue.

Ayr and Isis made their way down to the kitchen, ready to sneak past the house elves that worked there. Hunched in the doorway, Isis looked over her shoulder to make sure no one else was coming. Ayr pulled out her wand, and pointed it at a peppermint humbug, which were being prepared for that night's holiday feast.

"_Locomotor_," She whispered, watching the treat as it floated through the air.

The sweet was halfway through the kitchen when a house elf began climbing a step-ladder to reach something in a cabinet. He did a double take as he noticed the charmed peppermint humbug floating through the air. Following its project path, his eyes narrowed and found Ayr and Isis, who blushed furiously. Ayr snatched the treat out of the air as it neared, turning on her heel and taking off with Isis, laughing at their nearness to getting into trouble.

As they climbed the stairs to the third floor, Isis and Ayr saw Jessiey and Courtney waving as they came down the stairs. In Jessiey's hand was a white tapered candle, which she waved over her head triumphantly. Skipping down the stairs, they met up with Ayr and Isis and turned into the third floor corridor.

"Did you guys get the sweets?" Courtney asked as they leaned against the wall.

Ayr held out her hand, and showed the peppermint humbug. As the girls smiled in victory, Lily and Sarah joined them, a small potted plant displayed proudly in the crook of Sarah's arm. Lily held the bag open to them, and Ayr and Jessiey dropped their items into it. Thundering footsteps made them turn their heads to see the Marauders return, cranberries and a vial of – presumably – Fang's drool in Potter's hands.

"Great!" Lily exclaimed, holding the bag open to them. She rolled her eyes at Potter's wink. "Don't let it go to your head – it's big enough as it is."

"What's next?" Ayr asked, glaring at them both.

Lily held up the list and passed the bag to Isis. Scanning the list, her brow knitted in concentration, she glanced at the bag.

"We have the book as the 'stereotypical witch', the owl as the 'guardian of the night', and the cranberries as the 'forbidden fruit'," She announced as each item was pulled out of the bag and held up before being replaced. "Fang's drool is for 'animal hunger symptom', the tapestry of constellations for 'starry eyes of night', and Morpheus as 'a girl's best friend'. We have the candle, the plant, and the sweet – all that's left to find is 'a boy's worst nightmare'."

The girls turned to the boys, waiting for them to reveal their worst nightmare. Shuffling from foot to foot, they rubbed the back of their necks and flushed several shades of red. Ayr started as she remembered last night, and blinked at them, surely convinced that it had been a dream, or something her exhausted mind had projected out of its delirious state. Sirius cleared his throat and glanced at the girls.

"A girl on the rag."

Staring in shock, the girls let out a peal of amused laughter. Ayr reached into her ever-present shoulder bag, reaching around until she found what she was looking for. Trying to be discreet for the sake of the blushing boys, she slipped the wrapped pad into the bag full of their items. The laughter quieted down when they realized that their ten items had been found and claimed. With only a glance at their fellow Gryffindors, the students took off, leaping down the stairs of the Grand Staircase until they came to the ground floor.

"The other years only had five items to locate," Sarah observed hopefully. "Maybe they're already waiting for us!"

They burst into the Great Hall, thrilled to see that of the four houses, Gryffindor had the most students crowded around its table. Dumbledore sat in the front of the room with McGonagall and Flittwick, a twinkly in his eyes as he watched the Gryffindors run into the Hall. They dropped their bag onto the table, upending it so the items joined the others on the table. They slid the potted plant towards the pile, smiling – victory was well within their reach.

"What are we missing?" Lily asked the girl next to her, a second year by the name of Casey Anderson.

"The third years aren't back yet, and the fifth years are waiting on one more item," The girl replied sheepishly, her eyes dancing with excitement.

While the Gryffindors waited, Lily took out her list and scanned the table, occasionally asking what clue and item had been taken for. She nodded in approval as she saw only six items missing – the third years' and the fifth years' missing item. They waited anxiously, minutes drawing into hours as more students pushed into the Great Hall.

Malfoy entered, seeking out Ayr's eyes and smirking arrogantly. She watched as he glided over to his table, every stride powerful and full of grace. He turned his head, watching as Snape, Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson all dropped their items on the table. Smirking, he caught Ayr's eye again and shrugged. She could almost hear him -_ still sure about your victory, Trikk? _Almost ready to flick him off, she turned at the excited shouts of her house. The third years rushed up to the table, depositing their items quickly by the others.

"Where the bloody hell is Drucker?" She heard one of her housemates ask anxiously.

The Hall fell silent as shouts floated in from the hallway. Within seconds, a dozen students entered Ayr's field of sight. She found the fifth year student, a red candle of hope in a sea of green. The Gryffindors and Slytherins immediately started shouting, encouraging their housemates along, hoping that their respective members reached their table first. Ayr spotted their missing item – a crystal ball from the Divination classroom – in Drucker's hand, and started yelling louder. Christian Washburn pushed his way to the front of the Gryffindor's, and held his hands out.

"Drucker – throw it!"

Ayr's throat constricted in panic as she watched the light reflect off of the air-borne sphere. She heard the gasps of the Gryffindors, and she shut her eyes, waiting to hear the tinkling sound of the crystal ball shattering on the floor. Instead, she heard the shouts of dozens of Gryffindors. Opening her eyes, she let out the breath she had been holding when Christian placed the ball on the table, his hand coming up and punching the air in victory. The angry shouts of the Slytherins were music to Ayr's ears.

Dumbledore stood up, holding his hands up for silence. Eventually, both the shouts of victory and anger died down as the students turned to face the Headmaster. The soft shuffling of students' feet were the background to his words.

"It appears," He began with amusement, "that Gryffindor is the winner. While Professors McGonagall and Flittwick check that all of the items are there and acceptable, I'll ask that everyone refrain from stirring themselves up again."

Ayr watched, shuffling with anticipation, as the two professors took one of the lists from a first year, and began to make their way down the table. They stopped every now and then to confirm the purpose of an object, nodding and checking things off on the list as they went. Finally, they came to the end of the table, and with what Ayr perceived as dramatized slowness, turned to nod at Dumbledore.

"The winner," He called over the rising shouts of the students in red, "is Gryffindor!"

* * *

The Great Hall looked like a Christmas card; candles glittered gaily above the students' heads. Snow fell from the enchanted ceiling, melting before if came close to the diners, sticking to the tops of the enormous pine trees, decorated with cheery lights and ornaments. The chatter of students never ceased, dimming occasionally as students stopped to take a bite of the food in front of them.

"My parents have confirmed the party on Christmas Eve," Courtney called out to her friends, leaning over to include the Marauders. "It starts at six – I hope you all are coming."

Nods and excited affirmations chorused through the group as they discussed the party. Courtney's parents threw an annual holiday gala, and it was the highlight of the girls' year. They gossiped excitedly about the guest list, and immediately began discussing changes to their wardrobe accordingly. The Harts' party rivaled that of the Malfoys', though the guest list consisted of people in much better moral standing. With that thought, Ayr glanced towards the Slytherin table.

Malfoy sat between Crabbe and Parkinson, playing the perfect host with a graceful smile as girls fawned and boys shook his hand. Ayr assumed that the Slytherins were talking about the Malfoys' family party. She flushed when his eyes flicked over to her, and felt her stomach tighten when his graceful smile didn't waver as their eyes locked. Stirring from her stupor, she caught another Slytherin's eyes; Parkinson watched her shamelessly, and she scowled at that strange look in his eyes. Malfoy's head turned, and his eyes flicked between Ayr and Parkinson. His smile slipped for a fraction of a second, and Ayr almost thought she imagined the heat that flashed in his eyes.

Ayr hurriedly turned back to her friends, launching herself into the conversation with emphasized enthusiasm. The chatter dimmed eventually, and Dumbledore stood to wish the students and happy holiday and safe travels. Ayr stood with her friends, their heads pressed together as plans for the holiday were discussed, and promises of communication were made amongst the students. The sea of students pushed through the doors of the Great Hall, spreading and splitting as they made their way to their respective common rooms.

Ayr started when a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her out of the crowd. Reaching for her wand, she scowled when Malfoy's other hand stopped the movement. He had pulled her into a shadowed alcove, and students passed by, oblivious except for a few curious glances. Ayr pulled her hands from his grip, crossing her arms over her torso and raising an eyebrow.

"You just have the habit of getting girls alone, don't you?"

His face remained the perfect mask of ignorance, but Ayr noticed that same heat flash through his eyes, as it had when he had looked at Parkinson earlier.

"I do wish you'd stop babbling on about some steamy romance scene you have me involved with in your head," He quipped, his brow rising slightly.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" She glared, trying to ignore the beautiful way the light and shadows framed his face. "I have places I'd rather be and things that need to be done."

"I simply wanted to assure you that I haven't forgotten about our wager," He mumbled, his body moving a hair closer to hers. "I'm a fair sport – I will meet you an hour before our first meeting after the holiday, and you may ask your questions."

"How gracious of you," She scowled.

Malfoy's hand shot out, and she flinched, expecting a sting on her cheek from his palm. Instead, she felt his fingers brush her arm as he took the fingers of one hand, lifting it to the level of his eyes. He raised it an inch and then lowered it that same inch, as if raising a glass in a toast. Her breath hitched in her throat as his lips brushed her knuckles, and she mentally shouted at herself before the blush could reach her face. He dropped her hand and gave her his trademark smirk.

"Have a pleasant holiday, Trikk." He turned on his heel, turning over his shoulder as he walked away. "And do try to stay out of trouble."

Her head raced as oxygen reached her brain with the breath she released from her lungs. She had to lean against the wall for support before her knees gave out. Running a hand through her hair, Ayr tried to collect her thoughts and focus them on the disdain she had for Malfoy, but she kept drawing a blank. Something stirred in the corner of her eye, and she jumped when Sirius walked towards her, anger flashing in his eyes.

"What are you doing, _Trikk_?"

Ayr winced at the venom in his tone, his face turning a dangerous shade in anger. She straightened and squared her shoulders, suddenly irked at his sudden possessiveness. He stopped in front of her, his nose nearly touching hers as he looked down at her.

"What's it to you, _Black_?"

"Ayr, have you gone completely mad?" He hissed, his mouth close to her ear so as not to attract the attention of the students still leaving the Great Hall. "The guy's a complete nutter – a charming, _evil_, dangerous nutter. Your promised me last year that you wouldn't go near him."

"I was settling a bet, Sirius," She bit back, attempting to push past him and growling when he blocked her into the alcove. "Sirius, this is neutral territory – _public_ neutral territory at that. He may be a nutter, but even he has the common sense to not attempt something _here_."

"You let him _touch_ you," He seethed, anger flashing anew in his eyes.

"I was shocked immobile," She insisted. "I'm fine! He didn't do anything completely inappropriate. Besides, shouldn't you be more concerned with _your_ sneaking around?"

Sirius jerked away from her as if she had slapped him, and the angry color drained from his face as he stared, shocked, at her. Collecting himself, he leaned into her again, his mouth closer to her ear now. He wrapped his arms around her to ward off the curious glances, looking to anyone passing as if he were simply embracing her.

"You _did_ see us," He mumbled against her ear, and she nodded. "Who have you told?"

"No one," She promised. "Who else knows?"

"Dumbledore," He answered quickly. "Who are you going to tell?"

"No one," She repeated, meaning it. "Where do you go?"

Sirius sighed and pulled back, running a hand through his hair. He looked around and bit the inside of his cheek, looking as if he was battling with something in his mind. He finally stepped towards her, looking around again. Before he said anything, he stepped back and frowned. He stepped towards her quickly, seeming as if he were doing it before he could change his mind.

"The next full moon, after the holidays…" He looked over his shoulder and then pressed his mouth against her forehead, hiding his words in a brotherly kiss. "Meet us here at midnight, after the Prefects have gone to bed. Not a minute later."

Saying no more, he turned on his heel and left her in the alcove. After a moment, Ayr followed him slowly, walking in a daze. She suddenly felt that, between Malfoy and the Marauders, her return to Hogwarts might rival the holiday vacation for the first time.


	7. Ask Me No Questions

**Chapter Seven  
**_(Ask Me No Questions, I'll Tell You No Lies)_

_You are gone again. It's getting harder to wait for you._

_Our daughter is expected in the world in two weeks, and yet you've grown detached, and distant. Perhaps the nerves of fatherhood have finally set in, but when I look in your eyes – when I see your eyes, that is – I see something darker than just nerves. Your temper has been intolerable lately, and I must say that I, for one, can put up with it no longer._

_My darling Tom… what happened to you?_

It was the shortest letter yet, and Ayr frowned as she put it back in the pile. She had grown to understand what her mother had seen in her father. He was charming, sophisticated, and cared deeply for her mother, despite the privacy he insisted on - Ayr wondered if she had finally accepted her father, or if Malfoy was affecting her worse than she thought. In the recent letters, however, she could tell that their love was strained, being put under the pressure of her father's constant secrets and frequent disappearing acts.

She had searched the library over the winter holiday for any reference to a Tom, and had come up with some useless – albeit interesting – pieces of history. Her favorite had been the story of a muggle named Thomas Buckley, who had kicked his ride-on lawn mower in order to get it to work. He succeeded only in chopping off two of his toes. While the story was rather grotesque, Ayr was amused by the sheer stupidity of some people.

"Andrew Martin is looking for you."

Ayr jerked her head up and blinked at Courtney and Isis, scowling at the reference of a seventh year Hufflepuff. The Harts' party had been a complete success; it was the first year the girls were allowed champagne, and they realized they may have gone a bit too far when reserved Ayr became entirely too promiscuous with the quiet boy. Looking around for Lily, Ayr was desperate to forget the moment by reminding her friends that when drunk, Lily had a bit of a sweet spot for Potter.

"Bugger off," Was her only reply.

Snickering, Courtney and Isis sat on the couch next her, flanking her. Ayr smiled at them – in reality, the party had been the best yet. The friends clapped when Remus and Courtney shared their first kiss under the mistletoe, and Jessiey had blushed furiously on New Year's Eve when Sirius chose her for his first kiss of the year. The only downside had been that during those two joyous moments, Ayr found herself wishing that a certain Slytherin had been there to duplicate them with her.

"So what have we found out about Daddy Dearest?" Isis asked, glancing down at the letters in Ayr's lap.

"Nothing terribly new," She answered, waving the bundle around as she talked. "He was big on his privacy, I'll give him that."

"I take it Mama Trikk didn't like that," Isis mused with a slight smile.

"No," Ayr scowled. "She didn't."

"Relax, Ayr," Courtney soothed, patting her friend's knee. "Isis was only joking. What's with you lately?"

Ayr frowned – she had been too emotional lately. The only reason she had come with was that trying to repress the memory of Malfoy's harassment had been tiring. On top of that, trying to loathe him, _remembering _that night, was getting more difficult with each day. She had a meeting with him that night – an hour early, as they had planned, and Ayr found she wasn't looking forward to it as much as she thought she should. The entire holiday season had been spent wondering after him, and looking forward to her return to Hogwarts. The Sunday of their return and Monday full of classes had been stretched too long for her liking. Granted, she had classes in which she saw Malfoy, but she was anxious to get the truth out of him. Realizing that she had only a few minutes before her meeting, her stomach clenched.

She had woken this morning to a soft tapping on the window, closed tightly against the frosty January air. She had opened the window long enough to let the owl drop its delivery and take off again; it wasn't one she was familiar with, but the purity of its feathers marked it as expensive. She looked down at her hand, which was holding a single red rose, a black ribbon tied around it to hold a piece of parchment.

_Tonight, little lion – L.M._

She had the distinct impression that Malfoy was trying to woo her, and the thought did strange things to her insides. Her other thought was that Malfoy knew what she was going to ask him that night, and was trying to bribe his way into her good graces. Even as she scowled, she hadn't had the heart to throw the rose away. Instead, she had conjured a vase and water, placing the rose on her nightstand after removing the note and ribbon. She had placed the note in her trunk, pressed between two books. The ribbon was being used to tie her hair back.

Ayr dragged her eyes away from the fire, where they had drifted when she had zoned out, and smiled abashedly at her friends. They were both staring expectantly, as if waiting for some sort of response to a question she hadn't heard.

"Sorry," She muttered, flushing. "What did you say?"

"I _asked_," Isis said with an exasperated sigh, "how you were holding up on the Malfoy front of events."

"Oh," Ayr giggled. "Once he knows you're not afraid to throw his act back at him, he mellows out a bit. It's much easier to deal with him now than it was at the beginning of the year."

_Or last year._

The thought slipped through Ayr's mind before she could grip it. She squirmed under her friends' incredulous stares. Isis regained her composure first, shaking her head quickly and nodding.

"Well, I'm glad to see you've begun to act your age."

Ayr snorted and lifted herself off of the couch. She placed the letters into her shoulder bag and headed towards the portrait. Just before pushing it open, she looked over her shoulder and winked at her two friends.

"I wouldn't change your expectations of me yet, Turbini," she giggled, sticking out her tongue to emphasize her words.

Silent with thought, Ayr left the Gryffindor tower and waited at the entrance to the Grand Staircase for a set of stairs to move over to her landing. She took the steps slowly, staring own at her feet and nibbling on her lip. Had Malfoy really become more bearable, she asked herself, or was it a new coping mechanism that her mind had come up with?

_Yes, because I'm coping very well,_ she scowled. _The bloody git assaulted me, and suddenly I can't get near him without my knees turning into mush and my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth. Yes, that sounds like coping to me._

She pushed the door to the Great Hall open, her stomach settling as she saw that she was the first one there. She sighed with relief and put her bag on the table at the front of the room. They had decided to meet at that table, since it was neutral territory. She ran her fingers along the gleaming wood, walking the length of it before lifting herself onto it, standing to spin slowly on its surface.

She looked down at her reflection and stepped on her own face. She felt like a traitor – to her house, to her friends, to the Marauders who made it their goal to keep Malfoy as far from Ayr as possible. More than all of this, though, Ayr felt like a traitor to herself. She was a Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake, and he was a Slytherin – they were _programmed_ to hate each other. If the houses' rivalry wasn't enough, the way he had treated her for the past seven years ought to have been enough to keep the disdain for him strong. Even _if_ those reasons failed, she had that night burned into the back of her mind – she should hate him, damn it, and she hated herself because she was finding that she _didn't_.

She took the ball of her foot and twisted it on the wood, wishing she could crush the battling doubts inside of her as easily as she could step on her own reflection. She noticed that some of her hair had escaped the ribbon, and she sighed, slipping it out of her hair to retie it. As the black satin passed by her face, she felt her stomach tighten – the smell was mostly musky, a bit sweet, and entirely Malfoy.

She had to stop thinking about him so much. She realized that he had dominated her thoughts most of this year – whether it was about how much she hated him, or how much she _should_ hate him, she was still thinking of him. She closed her eyes, a lullaby from her childhood floating into her mind as she lifted her arms over her head. Swaying in time with the beat, she began moving slowly along the length of the table, her body taking over and her mind shutting off.

After a few moments, Ayr felt something slide up her arms; one was guided to rest on someone's shoulder, and the other was held by her hand in another warm one. The soft pressure on her waist was comforting, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she should be alarmed. For the time being, she was content to let the stranger lead her in a dance across the professors' table. Finally, the nagging in the back of her head became too much, and her mind took control back of her body. Her eyes flew open, and she jerked away from Malfoy with a surprised yelped.

"What are you playing at, Malfoy?"

Her eyes were narrowed, but the sudden scare had her heart threatening to jump out of her chest. The two of them stood there, staring at each other in silence. Malfoy's face was the picture of apathy, and Ayr knew that hers was overcompensating for the thrill pulling on her heartstrings.

"You're babbling again, Trikk."

Ayr jumped and landed lightly on her feet, turning to stare up at Malfoy. The fact that he was almost twice as tall as her now did nothing to stop her confused feelings from mingling, creating a storm that poured out of her mouth, echoing in the Hall around them.

"Stop _changing_! You can either be the Malfoy who forces himself on me in a dark classroom, or you can be the Malfoy that kisses my hand, and sends me a rose, and dances with me on the table! You _cannot be both_!"

Malfoy's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he leapt gracefully from the table top. He closed the gap between them in two long strides, and he pressed his face close to hers. Their noses almost touched, and there was anger flashing in both sets of eyes. Ayr decided in that moment that she didn't loathe Lucius Malfoy because she feared him – she loathed him because he confused her endlessly.

"The next time you mention this _dark room_, I will have your tongue cut out for telling lies."

There was no fear in his eyes, only unbridled anger. She stepped back, and slapped him across the cheek for the second time in as many months. His nostrils flared and he grabbed her hand, pulling her back towards him until their chests were touching. She tried jerking her hand away, but to no avail. Instead, she met his eyes and hissed at him.

"It isn't a lie, you bloody git," She seethed, her voice dangerously quiet. "Shall I remind you? Last year, during O.W.L. reviews? Abandoned classroom on the third floor? Nothing? You did _this _- " she jerked her wrist in his hand, showing the way he restrained her. "On a couch you conjured! Lucius Malfoy, you insufferable prat, _get off of me_!"

His brow knitted together, and he loosened the grip on her wrist, but didn't let it go. His eyes didn't leave hers, and she could see a range of emotions pass through them – pain, fear, understanding, and then finally anger again. He dropped her wrist violently – he threw it away from his body and turned without a word, brushing past Ayr as if she weren't there.

"Where the bloody hell are you going?" She shouted, following him. "I want some answers, you bastard!"

He either didn't hear her – which was unlikely, since she was shouting – or wasn't paying attention, which was a very Malfoy-like explanation. She ran after him, having to jog to keep up with his long strides as they carried him out of the castle and down the path towards the Quidditch pitch. She tried calling him names, hitting on his shoulder, and running to stop in front of him. The most response she received was a flick of his eyes accompanied by his usual sneer.

He stalked onto the ground of the pitch, looking around and then locking his eyes on a flying figure. He put his fingers into his mouth and let out a shrill whistle. The figure slowed for a moment, and then circled twice more before landing. Ayr scowled as Daniel Parkinson hovered in front of them, the tips of his toes brushing the ground as he jerked his head in greeting to Malfoy.

"I'm glad to see you've finally come to your senses," He scoffed, sneering at Ayr as if she were a piece of stubborn furniture. "I knew she'd break."

Ayr yelped in surprise as Malfoy launched himself at Parkinson, knocking the boy off of his broom and onto the ground. The air filled with the sickening sounds of bones cracking – apparently hexes and curses were not violent enough for Malfoy. Ayr's body finally unlocked itself, and she rushed over to him, trying to pull him off of Parkinson. The latter boy's face was a mess of blood and snot,

"Malfoy, stop! You're going to kill him! Malfoy!" She pulled on his arm, sobbing softly. "Lucius, _stop_!_ Please_!"

He glanced her way, his eyes softening just a bit. The hard glint returned when he pressed his forearm down on Parkinson's throat, threatening to cut off the boy's air supply. Parkinson swung wildly, and Ayr winced as his fist collided with Malfoy's jaw. His shock allowed Parkinson to flip him, snarling. Ayr cried out as Parkinson's fist made contact with Malfoy's nose. She could smell the blood from where she stood.

"Stop it! Both of you!"

Neither of them were capable of hearing her by this point. There was a constant stream of curses and insults as the boys rolled on the ground. Malfoy's robe was ripped at the shoulder, and Parkinson's white uniform shirt was turning red from the blood from his face. Ayr choked back another sob, covering her mouth with a shaking hand before she screamed. She was tempted to curse Parkinson into oblivion, but she had no clear shot to guarantee she wouldn't hit Malfoy accidentally. She heard a horrible sound when Parkinson's fist sunk into Malfoy's stomach, and she shrieked her alarm when Malfoy spat blood.

"You bloody git!"

She wasn't sure which one had said it – it had been the first thing she was able to make out. More curses surrounded them, and Ayr almost jumped for joy when Malfoy flipped Parkinson again, slugging him across the jaw. Ayr heard a pop, and then another as Malfoy's fist collided with the other side. Parkinson's nose was a mass of blood and gore, and Ayr almost felt sorry for him.

"Malfoy! Lucius, please, _stop_!"

Malfoy flicked his eyes at Ayr, her pleading finally reaching his ears. He whipped his wand out of his pocket and held it against Parkinson's throat. The latter Slytherin was smirking arrogantly as his eyes flicked over to Ayr. Malfoy's wand pressed harder against the flesh of Parkinson's seethed neck. He spit blood onto the ground by Parkinson's head and then leaned close to him.

"If you touch her again," He threatened dangerously. "I won't stop – I'll keep going until you bleed out under me."

Malfoy threw himself off of Parkinson, standing and kicking the boy in the ribs before Parkinson rolled over and got up, racing towards the castle. He cast a look back at the two of them, and Ayr noticed the fear hidden behind the arrogance. Malfoy swayed for a moment, and then landed on his butt, the ground coming up to meet him harshly. Ayr rushed over to him, ripping off the rest of his sleeve and using it to sop up the blood on his face.

"What the bloody hell was _that_ for, you git?" She hissed, ignoring him as he winced in pain.

"He never told me." Malfoy took the cloth from Ayr and hissed as he pressed it against his nose. "He went to go find you, to spite me – I didn't… I didn't think he'd do… I didn't know, Ayr. He told me he found you. He didn't tell me… I didn't know…"

Ayr stared in a shocked stupor, the pain and betrayal in Malfoy's voice transforming him into a completely different person. This broken man in front of her was not the Malfoy she knew. She topped the thought short – who _was_ Malfoy, if not the arrogant, proud git who had assaulted her? The only thing she knew at this moment was that it hadn't been Malfoy, and that she needed to get him to the infirmary.

"Come on," She instructed, pulling him gingerly off of the ground. "We need to take you to Madam Pomfrey – your face is a bloody mess."

Malfoy chuckled vacantly at the play on words, but Ayr could sense the tension under the façade. She held onto his arm, helping his keep his balance as they moved up the path towards the school. The walk to the Hospital Wing was awkward and took too long for Ayr's comfort. The glances and whispers didn't bother her as much as the blood pouring from Malfoy's nose at an alarming rate. She left him by the Grand Staircase for a moment, running into the Great Hall and grabbing her bag, telling the students that the meeting would be held tomorrow instead.

Once they had made it to the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey rushed about the room fussing over Malfoy's busted nose and ruined clothes. She mumbled something about men and their tempers, thrusting something in a wooden cup at him and demanding he drink it, claiming it would help with his nose and the tear in his stomach from the broken rib Parkinson had given him. Malfoy swirled it around in the cup and then downed it, gagging uncharacteristically. Ayr rolled her eyes, but smiled at his cooperation.

After a few moments, the potion took effect and Malfoy fell asleep. Watching quietly, Ayr reached a hand out to brush the hair from his eyes. She frowned at the matted blood in the blonde silk, and found a rag from Madam Pomfrey, filling a basin with warm water and taking both items to the stand by the bed. Working slowly and gently, Ayr cleaned the blood off of his face and out of his hair. He had twitched in his sleep a few times, but Malfoy was too deep asleep to be bothered.

Satisfied with her work, Ayr sat in the chair next to Malfoy's bed, fishing around in her bag for the letters. She pulled the next one off of the pile, and began to read.

* * *

"What is it that you're always reading?"

Ayr was holding another letter, but hadn't been paying much attention to it. Her mind had begun to wander, piecing together the events of that night. Ayr had flushed when it fell into place – the missing Polyjuice Potion that the potions master had been complaining about, the alleged Quidditch game gone bad that Parkinson had feigned to explain his broken ribs and bruises. When Malfoy had shown up uninjured, Ayr had just chalked it up to Madam Pomfrey's expertise.

Ayr shook her head at herself and then handed Malfoy the letter.

"They're letters that my parents wrote to each other before I was born. They stop when I was about one."

Malfoy's eyes scanned the letter before handing it back.

"Sounds like there was trouble in paradise," He mused.

"You don't know the half of it," Ayr mumbled, tucking the letter into the back of the pile. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," He repeated for the tenth time since he had woken up thirty minutes ago. "I would rather have been healing in my own bed in my own dorm."

Ayr rolled her eyes at Malfoy, but didn't say anything – he had stayed there, and that was all that mattered. He grimaced as he stretched slowly, situating himself into a more comfortable position. He watched Ayr as she rummaged around in her bag, and when she leaned back up, she blushed softly, not able to meet his gaze.

"What?" She asked softly, crossing her legs.

"You never asked me those three questions."

Ayr almost choked; one of the questions was going to be why he had done what he had that night. Unfortunately – or fortunately, depending on your perception – the question had been answered before she had asked it. Ayr started, a question suddenly popping into her mind. She squirmed in her seat, looking Malfoy square in the eye.

"Why did you hit him?" At his incredulous look, she waved her hand and scoffed. "I know what he did, git. Why did you _hit_ him because of it."

Malfoy's soft chuckle sounded nice to Ayr, even if he did wince slightly once he stopped. His eyes locked with hers, and for once, Ayr could see nothing in them but the blue of the irises. There was nothing sinister, or angry, or cynical – they were just blue, and Ayr found herself smiling softly.

"Because he had sought you out to spite me," He replied easily, as if that fact were known to everyone. "He had called me soft because I wouldn't talk to you, wouldn't demand that you belong to me."

"I wasn't under the impression that you wanted me to belong to you."

Malfoy smiled, and it was tired and worn thin. He slowly slid down into the bed, looking over to her as he moved. He smiled again, holding out his hand. When she placed hers in his, he brought it to his lips.

"I still hate you, you know, Malfoy," She told him.

Ayr tried to keep the blush off of her face, and thought she had succeeded until Malfoy's brows rose in amusement. She coughed to hide the nervous laugh, and realized with butterflies in her stomach that he hadn't let go of her hand.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Trikk."


	8. Fate in a Bottle

**Chapter Eight**  
_(Fate In a Bottle)_

"I don't understand," Isis sighed as they left breakfast. "You spent the night in the hospital wing… with _Malfoy_."

Books in hand, the six Gryffindor girls left the Great Hall and made their way towards the dungeons for double Potions with the Slytherins. Sarah hadn't talked to Ayr all morning, and the other girls were staring at her as if she had three heads. They hadn't insinuated anything, nor had they started saying nasty things, but Ayr knew she had to watch what she said about Malfoy around them.

"I told you," Ayr began, sighing with exasperation. "Malfoy and Parkinson got into it during our meeting yesterday, and I was the only one around to help him to the infirmary. And I didn't _spend the night_ – I was back in the common room by curfew. I wasn't any later than I normally would have been after a meeting."

"Yes," Courtney sputtered. "But you were with _Malfoy_."

"I would have been with Malfoy _anyway_," Ayr pointed out. "I just felt responsible to make sure he didn't die. I was being the bigger person."

"Madam Pomfrey is perfectly qualified to keep students alive," Lily argued. "That's why she's here."

"It's hard to explain, alright? Like I said – I wanted to be the bigger person. Look at it this way – Malfoy owes me. It's something to hold over his head."

Ayr's friends took on a thoughtful look – it seemed her last reason had a different effect on them, and they accepted it. The Potions classroom came into view, and Ayr pulled Sarah aside while the other girls went to go find seats. Sarah wouldn't look at her at first, but Ayr kept moving to stand in her line of sight, and Sarah finally sighed and looked her friend in the eye.

"It's _Malfoy_, Ayr," She said softly. "We understand that you have to be around him because of the Head positions – it just seems that lately, you're looking _forward_ to it. Then you willingly decide to spend the rest of the day by his bed. We don't care if you fancy him – we'll raise hell about it, because we have to – but we don't care. You just haven't been telling us anything lately… We just don't know what's going on. One minute you hate him, the next you're caring for him, even after what he did -"

"Sarah!" Ayr whispered, smiling brightly. "It wasn't _Malfoy_."

"What do you mean?" Sarah narrowed her eyes. "You told me it was Malfoy."

"No, no – I thought it was, too! That fight yesterday wasn't about them being pig-headed like I told the others – I kept bringing that night up to Malfoy, who figured out that Daniel Parkinson had posed as him!"

Sarah lost the scowl, but the doubt in her eyes wasn't much better. Her eyes were flicking from side to side as if she expected something to jump out and attack them. When she was satisfied that they were safe, she sighed and looked at Ayr again.

"So… now what? _Do _you fancy him?"

"No," Ayr snorted, answering a bit too quickly. "He's still a bloody git. Malfoy will _always_ be a foul, bloody git."

There was a bark of amused laughter, and Ayr turned as Sarah's eyes widened at something over her shoulder. Her heart leapt in her chest when she saw Malfoy walking towards the classroom. She looked behind him – Crabbe, Goyle, and Snape were there, but Parkinson was nowhere to be seen. She forced herself to replace the smile that almost painted her mouth with a scowl for the others' benefit.

"Talking about me, Trikk?" Malfoy smirked, but Ayr noticed there wasn't as much conviction in it as normal. "I'm flattered."

"Go soak your head, Malfoy," She sneered, hoping it was convincing.

Sarah flicked her eyes between the two of them, and then grabbed Ayr's arm to pull her into the classroom. The smile on Sarah's face was barely attempting to stay hidden, so Ayr concluded that the performance in the hallway was convincing indeed. She risked a glance at Malfoy as she sat down next to Jessiey. He glanced her way, an eyebrow arching gracefully. She scowled, and she thought she saw his shoulders shake in silent laughter.

"Alright, students, settle down." There was shuffling in the room as the students turned in their seats to look at Professor Slughorn. "As you all know by now, you are in the N.E.W.T. level Potions class. As we discussed before the holiday break, your N.E.W.T.s will encompass all that you've learned, and focus more on the practical applications of potions. So far in your Potions classes, you've learned to make potions such as Draught of Peace, Strengthening Solution, and Everlasting Elixirs."

He turned and flicked his wand at the blackboard, nodding as the chalk danced across the surface. When the chalk clacked back into its holder, Slughorn turned with a grin to face his students. He pointed to Jessiey, who had raised her hand.

"Professor Slughorn," She began, clearly anxious. "There's less than six months until our N.E.W.T.s, and you want us to make Amortentia?"

Her tone made it clear what she thought about the professor's sanity. Whispers chorused through the room –_ love potions are banned in Hogwarts_ and the answering _who has ever paid attention to what Filch has banned?_ Slughorn chuckled and held up his hand for silence. Another moment of rustling, and the professor was able to continue.

"As you've pointed out, Miss Wright, Amortentia is an unusual potion to find in the Potions curriculum. However, since it's _the_ most powerful love potion in the world, it is one of the most difficult to make correctly. In preparation for you N.E.W.T.s, we will prepare this potion, and tests its effects with a partner."

He turned to the blackboard again, and the students took notes as the chalk wrote out the steps they would take in preparing the potion. Their homework that night would be to research the ingredients of Amortentia, and write an essay on recorded cases of potion-gone-wrong. Slughorn informed them that they would spend each day working on one or two steps, making sure to get each ingredient exactly right before adding it to the potion.

"Now," Slughorn clapped and then erased the board. "Please come up to the board to see who your partner will be. Partners have been assigned based upon compatibility factors as seen fit by a Hat charmed with… well, it's not important – please come up to the board!"

As the charmed chalk worked over the board, students began leaving their seats and making their way to the front of the classroom. Excited whispers or dismayed groans began echoing through the room as people discovered their partners. Lily turned from the blackboard with a scowl on her face, shooting daggers with her eyes at Potter, who was punching the air.

"Professor," The red-head huffed, "I thought you said that partners were chosen based upon compatibility – I am _not_ compatible with Potter."

Slughorn winked. "You're more compatible than you realize, Miss Evans."

Sarah smiled; she had been paired with Sirius – though she had no romantic interest in him, she knew him and felt better about being partnered with him than with a Slytherin she didn't know. Jessiey had glowered, for not only had she not been paired with Sirius, but she had been paired with Daniel Parkinson. Ayr had felt slightly alarmed at this, but the knowing look she received from Malfoy told her that he'd watch the Slytherin's actions.

Courtney let out a hiss when she saw that Remus had been partnered with a rather attractive – but completely nasty – Slytherin Narcissa Black. Remus had kissed her temple softly, assuring her that Sirius' cousin held no interest for him. He was doing plenty of glaring himself at Snape, though, with whom Courtney had been paired. Isis groaned at the sight of Peter Pettigrew's name, but she wasn't nearly as distraught as the others.

Ayr's eyes scanned the list on the blackboard. Apparently her friends had found her name before she had, because the hisses came before she saw her partner. Malfoy's name grabbed her attention, and her heart fell before it leapt. After Malfoy's discovery, she felt safer around him, and wouldn't have minded being partnered with him at all. The glares around her, however, made her realize that her excitement wasn't welcome in her circle of friends.

"I'll kill the prat," Sirius growled under his breath, starting to move across the room towards him. "And then I'll kill Slughorn."

"Sirius!" Ayr grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. "Leave it alone! Nothing happened – understand?"

Sirius turned and glowered at her, taking his arm from her hand.

"If he so much as bends a hair on your head, I swear to Merlin -"

"Stop it." Ayr felt her shoulders drop and her chin raise. "Malfoy is not going to hurt me. He is not going to touch me. The potion is going to be administered in class, and nothing is going to happen."

Sirius' eyes left hers and sought out Malfoy's. Ayr watched as his eyes narrowed and his shoulders stiffened. Sirius leaned into Ayr, placing his mouth by her ear. The slight smirk on his face told her that Malfoy was glaring at the two of them, and she almost smiled herself.

"Why are you suddenly defending him?" His lips brushed her ear, and she shivered. "First I find you in an alcove with him kissing your hand, and now you're defending him? Who are you and what have you done with my best mate?"

Ayr turned her mouth into his hear, promising to explain everything to him. He was willing to let her in on his secret, so the least should could do was update him on a secret he had already been in on. His eyes were doubtful, but the scowl had left his face. He nodded, and left to go back to his seat. Ayr sighed and rubbed her temples – it had to have been Malfoy, didn't it?

She ignored Malfoy's scowl as she sat down. The girls were too sullen with their partners to rib Ayr about hers. Maybe, eventually, their loathing for Malfoy would come to a bearable point. Ayr blinked, surprising herself with the thought.

_He's still a bloody git_, she heard in her head, her words to Sarah earlier. _Whether or not that was him in the classroom that night, he has still spent the past seven years trying to make life at Hogwarts hell. He has no place in your heart, Ayr Trikk, and even less in your mind._

Her face formed into a scowl, and her jaw set itself in determination. Malfoy's relationship with her was nothing more than a necessity born of obligation. They would be nothing more than Head Boy to Head Girl, or partners in Potions class. Malfoy was cunning, manipulative, refined, respected and powerful. Ayr was none of those things; she was mouthy, lacked couth, and despised the blood status, despite her own pure bloodline. They had no place in each others' lives, and Ayr knew this.

"Now," Slughorn called out, pulling Ayr from her reverie. "You have your homework assignment for the night. I _highly recommend_ that you work with your partner to do your research – the earlier you get to know each other, the sooner you'll stop being strangers."

Ayr refrained from looking over her shoulder at Malfoy, but it took all of the energy she had. Slughorn continued rambling on about the importance of cooperation for this assignment, and Ayr rolled her eyes. Slytherins and Gryffindors did _not_ cooperate with each other. Hoping for anything else was as futile as wishing for snow in July. He finally began to talk about the effects of Amortentia, which seemed pretty self-explanatory to Ayr. She realized that the lecture was doing nothing to stimulate her mind – therefore not keeping it off of Malfoy – and pulled the letters from her shoulder bag.

When she pulled the top letter from the bundle, she frowned when she recognized the next envelope in the pile. The letter in her hand was the last between her parents, and she still hadn't found out much about her father. She knew his name was Tom, he liked his privacy, and was prone to extreme tempers. She sighed, unfolded the letter, and began reading.

_Your daughter has been asking after you, in her one-year-old way. _

_She sits in front of the door from the time you leave until I put her to bed. She doesn't cry, nor does she say anything other than the occasion "da" that serves as your title. She will, from time to time, turn her eyes to me, and I can see wisdom that has no business being in a toddler's eyes. I have no doubt that she knows exactly how tense the situation in the house is._

_Tom, this will be the last time you hear from me. By the time you read this, I will be gone with Ayr. You can find me, if you wish, for you know where I'll go. Until you sort out your moral dilemmas, however, I would prefer it if you don't – for our daughter's sake. When she gets older, please know I will explain everything to her, and rest assured that I will make sure she knows how much she was loved. _

_Often, when you get into one of your moods and have a fit, I escape by remembering the man you were in school – the man I fell for. I remember the first time I laid eyes on you – it was like I had never seen the sun before that moment. I remember the notes left in the statue of the Humpback Witch, and sneaking out after curfew to meet you in the Forbidden Forest. I remember how our first kiss made my head spin and my knees weak. More than anything, I remember the night that led to Ayr being born – how gentle you were, how your eyes bore into my soul as we made love… I think about that night more than any other._

_And then I remember that you are _not_ the man you were in school. Our nights are filled with insults, and curses, and lies. I see no love when you look at me now – only fear. The fear that I will find out your secrets, or the fear that someone believes I already know them. You come home bloodied and battered, and you look as if you haven't slept or eaten in days. My heart hurts for you, but it hurts more _because_ of you._

_Please know that I love you, hopelessly and endlessly. I also love my daughter, and for that reason alone, I must go. You are not the Tom I fell in love with and married. When you're home – if you're home – you do nothing but sulk around, and yell at the smallest incident. I cannot raise our daughter in a house full of anger and hatred at the world. Your secrets have taken over your life, and I will be victim of it no longer._

_I love you, Tom. Please be safe._

Ayr felt the pressure in her eyes before she felt it in her throat; her body was trying to keep her from crying. It was uncomfortable, and Ayr almost wanted to excuse herself to the lavatory to cry, if only to get rid of the choking feeling in her throat. She mentally scolded herself; she didn't know her father, who apparently _was_ a dead-beat by the time she had been born – why was she upset over her mother leaving him? Perhaps she felt for her mother, who Ayr loved immensely. Leaving her father must have been hard, and Ayr hurt for her. Approving of that explanation, Ayr nodded to herself and replaced the letter.

She ignored Malfoy's gaze the entire class.

* * *

_The library after dinner, little lion – L.M._

The owl had been at the window when Ayr had entered the dorm after the day's classes were completed. The rose had been black this time, with a red ribbon tied around its stem. Ayr had removed the note and ribbon, and placed the second rose in the vase with the first. She folded up the note and tucked it into her trunk, glad that none of her friends had been there; she was getting away with telling them she had a secret admirer, and they either believed her or didn't care enough to press the matter.

Now, sitting at the Gryffindor table between Isis and Lily, Ayr ran the red ribbon between her fingers as her friends complained about their Potions partners. Ayr could feel the tension in the Great Hall as the seventh years from Gryffindor and Slytherin glared at each other, ducking their heads to whisper something before continuing to glower. She caught Malfoy's eye, and he shrugged, smirking, as if saying _what can you do?_

She shrugged her shoulder as well, mouthing to him, _What about the Prefect meeting tonight?_ Malfoy winked, and she almost rolled her eyes when he mouthed back, _I took care of it._ Her look told him that she could have figured that out on her own. He _did_ roll his eyes, and then mouthed, _The only meeting this week will be on Friday – I told them it was a late Christmas present_.

Ayr broke the eye contact when she felt the smile pull at the corners of her mouth. She was trying her hardest not to like him, reminding herself what a foul person he had been throughout their school career. It took all she had to ignore his glances, his wooing roses, and smiles reserved solely for her. It almost seemed as if Malfoy had a complete change of character – Ayr despised it, fining it easier to loathe him when he was being an arrogant prat.

As the students stood to leave dinner, Ayr pulled Sarah aside and waited for her friends to pass before looking her in the eye.

"I need you to tell Sirius about Parkinson," She whispered, pressing her mouth close to Sarah's ear. "Tell him everything I told you when you go to do your homework with him tonight. Please?"

Sarah snorted softly, but her eyes were amused and her face was soft. Ayr gave her the best pout she could before Sarah swatted her arm.

"Why can't you tell him?"

"I've got to go meet Malfoy at the library to do this assignment," She replied easily. "I figured since you'd be the one alone with him first, you could tell him. Please?"

Sarah crossed her arms, glancing away from Ayr. She flicked her eyes to Ayr before looking away again. Ayr folded her hands in front of her chin and pouted, bouncing on the balls of her feet for better emphasis on the _please_. Finally, Sarah threw up her arms and sighed with exasperation.

"Fine," She scowled, turning to leave. "But when Sirius needs someone to murder, I'm sending him your way. His whole life is about hating Malfoy – I wouldn't want to be the one to ruin that for him."

Ayr rolled her eyes and followed her friend out of the Great Hall. They gossiped half-heartedly as they climbed the Grand Staircase. Apparently, a third year Ravenclaw by the name Emily Brass had been found by the Whomping Willow last night, claiming she was dared by a Slytherin fifth year to do it. Ayr made a note to ask Malfoy who the Slytherin had been, and waved good-bye to Sarah when they reached the second floor.

Ayr pushed the doors to the library open, looking around for the Slytherin once she closed the door behind her. Realizing that she was the first one here, she found an empty table and dropped her shoulder bag onto it. Sighing, she turned towards the aisles of books, trying to determine the best place to look. Scanning the spines of books in the _Medicinal Studies _section, she pulled a ragged copy of _Magical Maladies and Problematic Potions_ off of the shelf.

Her chair squeaked against the floor as she pulled it out from the table, sitting and beginning to flip through the book. Her heart jumped when she found a reference to Amortentia. A woman in Scotland had given her husband a dose of the potion in an attempt to spice up their love life. Instead of infatuation with his wife, the man began to pursue his sister-in-law. The wife, in a jealous rage, killed both her sister and her husband. Ayr shuddered and closed the book, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

A sweet scent invaded her nose, and she opened her eyes to find a pink rose held in front of her. She took it and turned to look up at Malfoy, who was watching her with his brows raised. She wanted to smile, and the scowl, so she settled for nodding her thanks. Finally, a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth.

"Do you grow these in your dorm, Malfoy?"

He chuckled softly as he sat, pulling a book – _Advanced Potion-Making _by Libatius Borage – out of his bag and placing it on the table in front of them.

"You caught me," He smirked, flipping open the book to the index and scanning it. "Don't tell anyone my secret."

Ayr laughed softly, and the two settled into a comfortable rhythm of reading and writing. Every so often, their knees would touch under the table, and Ayr would blush as Malfoy chuckled. She felt a bit out of sorts, sitting there with him; this felt like something she had done with her girlfriends time and time again – she'd never have thought it would have been this easy with Malfoy. She looked up as she felt his eyes on her, hiding her smile behind the curtain of her hair.

"What?"

Malfoy leaned forward and propped his elbows on the table.

"Tell me a secret."

Ayr jerked her head up and stared at him incredulously, knowing she couldn't have heard him right. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again when nothing would come out. She felt the flush creep from her neck up to her cheeks, and sputtered out some sort of response before Malfoy thought of her as an imbecile.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Tell me a secret," He smirked at her obvious discomfort. "Something no one else knows about you."

Ayr wracked her brain, for some reason willing to comply with his request. There wasn't much that she hadn't told at least _one_ of her friends. Her biggest secret had been the events of the night in sixth year, but now that Malfoy had been let in on it, she couldn't use that as a valid answer to his question. She bit the inside of her cheek.

"When I was younger, I used to pretend to be sick to get out of taking a test in school."

"That's not a secret," He laughed. "Everyone's done that."

"What about you then, Lord of Secrets?" She prodded Malfoy's arm with the tip of her quill. "You tell _me_ a secret. Have at it, go on."

"Fine," He smiled, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. "Our dance yesterday was interrupted."

"That's not a secret," Ayr replied, hiding her blush behind her hair.

"The secret," Malfoy continued, reaching forward to tuck her hair behind her ear so he could watch her face. "Is that I wish it hadn't been. I enjoyed it."

Ayr almost choked on her own tongue. She watched his eyes carefully, and saw nothing but sincerity – and subtle amusement. He slid his chair back from the table and stood, holding his hand out to her. She stared at it for a moment in a silent stupor before standing, somehow managing not to trip over her own feet.

"_Now_?" She hissed, wishing she could hide the blush creeping up her neck again. "We're in the middle of the library – people are going to see!"

"So let them see," He chuckled, sounding very un-Malfoy-like.

He used Ayr's hand to pull him against her, placing her hand on his shoulder before touching her waist lightly. The blush on her cheeks deepened by a few shades, and she hid it by looking around.

"There's no music," She insisted.

"Ayr, if you don't want to dance, then you could have just said no."

There was amusement in his voice, and he looked down at her with a quirked eyebrow. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, resting her head against Malfoy's shoulder. He began to hum softly, a slow tune that was distinctly soft jazz. Ayr was amused, but not surprised – of course Malfoy would have sophisticated tastes in music.

She relaxed as he easily led her in small circles, every so often holding his hand out so she could duck under it in a twirl. He pulled her back against him, resting his chin on her head as they danced. Once they had they rhythm of the song in their heads, he stopped humming so he could press his mouth into her hair.

"You still have two questions," He prompted her, his hand sliding to the small of her back.

"I was planning on saving them until I really needed them," She admitted, laughing softly into his shoulder.

"Then I'll give you one to use now," He laughed huskily. "Free of charge."

Ayr's mind reeled. There were so many things that she wanted to ask him; why had he asked her to dance? Why did he suddenly stop making her life miserable? Why was he trying to woo _her_, of all people? Ayr imagined that this was how her mother must have felt when her father first pursued her affection. She smiled softly into Malfoy's school robe and decided on the latter of the three questions.

"Why me?"

Her voice sounded small, even to herself – small and unsure. The soft laugh rumbled through Malfoy's chest, sending chills up Ayr's spine when she felt it through their close contact. He had started humming softly again, and after a few moments, Ayr thought he wasn't going to answer her. She debated demanding the answer, but then felt his lips move against her head.

"You're entirely too opinionated," He began, and she almost reminded him that she was seeking the traits he _liked_ about her. "You don't know when to keep your thoughts to yourself. You're unrefined, and you talk too much. You're the most stubborn person outside of the Malfoy family I've ever met. You have a wild ambition that shows in your eyes when you let your guard down. You know what you want, and you don't hesitate to give it your all. All of these things and more make you unlike any person I've ever met – and I'm drawn to you for reasons I have yet to figure out myself."

Ayr's mind stopped working, and she was grateful that Malfoy was such an excellent leader on the "dance floor", or she would have tripped over her own feet in shock. She focused on controlling her breathing, but her mind was wandering elsewhere. She could just turn her head – it would be that simple… She pulled her cheek from his shoulder as he stepped away from her, holding their hands up. She spun under his arm, and when he pulled her back to his body, they locked eyes, and slowed to a stop.

"People are going to see," She whispered, not able to move as his eyes grew closer to her.

"So let them see."

"It's… it's not right," She pressed, her voice shaking as she noticed for the first time that there were dark flecks of blue in his eyes. "We're from two enemy houses."

"Ayr," He mumbled, and she could feel his breath tickle her lips. "I don't care right now."

His lips touched hers, and Ayr felt herself give into the side that wanted to belong to Lucius Malfoy, all struggling against her feelings no longer possible.


	9. Forgive Me My Weakness

**A Note From Your Author: **I am so pleased with this fanfiction this time around! Thank you to all of the devoted readers – 492 hits and 253 views as of this morning! Thank you to everyone who's added this to their favorites/alerts. A few things to cover: **Cleverhearts:** You, as always, are to thank, because without you, this story would never have been written again. Thank you for being there with me to think the Malfoys are yummy gits and that Fred died unnecessarily. **Flyingcrispi: **I'm glad you're enjoying reading this. I'm aware that Lucius breaks character sometimes, but for some parts, it's necessary. I promise it's a rare occurance!

**Chapter Nine  
**_(Forgive Me My Weakness)_

_Snow fell around them; somehow, she wasn't cold. The snow stuck to her hair, and the veil hanging over her eyes. The white wedding dress clung to her frame, making her feel like a princess as she walked towards the man waiting for her at the altar. The former-Slytherin was waiting with a smile, completely at ease now that he had placed his differences with the former Gryffindors aside. His hand extended as she neared, and she placed hers in it, smiling as she met his eyes._

_They turned to face the minister; they had all been gathered here today to witness the sacred unity between two people in love. There was no one who spoke against the marriage of the two, and so the wedding proceeded. They turned to face each other, and her smile vanished when they eyes that met hers were not blue. _

"_We are together at last, daughter."_

_The snowy chapel melted away from around them and they stood on a cliff. Her father turned so that he looked out over the field, brown and dry in death. There was a low rumble in his chest, as if he was laughing, and he waved his hand. The field caught fire, and the flames spread quickly through the dry brush; her breath caught in her throat as she recognized the beauty in the destruction._

"_This world will be ours," Her father called to her over the roar of the fire. "A pure world, ready and waiting."_

_He waved his hand again, and the rain fell to quench the fire. The ashes were washed away, the bar field fertile with ash and rain. Before her eyes, as if in fast forward, the field reappeared – green, thriving, and alive. _

"_Sometimes, daughter, it's necessary to build from the ground up," He smiled, lifting his face up to catch the rain. "And demolish that which once stood in something's place."_

_She had no idea what he was talking about; she had stopped paying attention when the field sprouted to life. The rain on her skin was warm and thick, and she had to reach a hand up to dry her forehead before the water reached her eyes. She pulled her hand back, alarmed that the smear on the back of her hand was red. In fact, little spots all over her dress were red. She looked up and clapped a hand over her mouth._

_It was not water falling from the sky; it was blood._

_She watched as two men dueled above her head – if one could call it dueling. She knew them man kneeling, and she tried to scream, to stop the madness, but nothing came out of her mouth except a darkly amused giggle. Blue eyes turned to meet hers – blood ran from a cut above his eye, and parts of his clothes were singed and smoking. _

Why aren't you fighting back?_ She yelled at him, but only that eerie laugh escape her mouth. _Why are you just lying there?

"_You have failed in the task set before you."_

_The voice sent chills up Ayr's spine; it was a sound that should have come from the mouth of a snake, were they able to talk, rather than a human. The man pointing the wand at the man kneeling was gaunt and emaciated. His hair lacked luster and body, and his bony fingers seemed too long for his hands. As Ayr looked at this man, she felt both fear and adoration._

_She climbed the air until she stood next to the man holding the wand. The man kneeling before her met her eyes, and there was nothing there that made her want to drop the wand. His eyes were weary and empty, and they reflected the anger that she held in her own back to her. She pointed the wand, and felt her lips move, but no words were heard. There was a flash of green, a roll of thunder, and the red rain fell harder on the field below them._

Ayr could feel the scream bubbling in her throat as she shot up. She choked on her own fear, and she felt suffocated in the small room. Looking around, she noticed that her friends were still sleeping. Sighing with relief, she threw her feet over the side of her bed, and decided that she would make a visit to the Hospital Wing for a Dreamless Draught. She looked under her bed, snatching her slippers when she saw them and then putting them on her feet. They scuffed across the floor as she made her way to the door, slipping out of the dorm as quietly as possible.

Ayr mumbled a soft spell, pointing her wand at the floor once the tip illuminated. She could hear the soft snores of the portraits around her as she moved down the Grand Staircase. Every so often, one of the witches or wizard would mumble something about the reflected light, but otherwise, the only sound besides the snoring was that of her slippers on the floor.

The Hospital Wing welcomed her with the soft light reserved for the sleeping patients. Ayr recognized Emily Brass, the third year Ravenclaw attacked by the Whomping Willow. The bottle of Skelegrow told Ayr that the girl must have suffered from some serious broken bones; she frowned, her heart hurting a bit for the girl. She saw only one other occupied cot – rather, she saw the screens that hid the cot. She frowned at her curiosity and made her way to the back corner to find Madam Pomfrey.

The healer was rushing about her office, flicking her wand this way and that. Ayr noticed that there was a quill frantically filling out some paper work, and bottles organizing themselves in multiple cabinets. Madame Pomfrey was muttering something about wickedness in her infirmary; apparently, if she didn't respect Dumbledore so much, she would have refused treatment. Coughing softly to announce her presence, Ayr knocked on the open door to the office. Madame Pomfrey whirled around, her face softening immediately when she saw that it wasn't who she had expected it to be.

"Heavens, Miss Trikk, you gave me a fright," She smiled, but the smile was tight and weary. "I thought you may have been Mister Malfoy again."

Ayr's heart leapt to her throat at Malfoy's name. It had been nearly a week since she and Malfoy had danced in the library, and she hadn't seen him since. He hadn't been in class, nor had he been at the Prefect meetings on Friday and Tuesday. Realizing that today was Wednesday, she frowned when the realization that it had been _exactly_ a week since she had seen Malfoy. The nightmare had shaken her worse than she had thought. She turned and quickly glanced at the hidden cot before fixing Madame Pomfrey with an inquisitive gaze.

"Malfoy's here?"

"Aye," The healer nodded towards the cot. "Seems our young Mister Malfoy got himself into a bit of trouble. He's been a mess to clean up, and an even bigger mess to deal with."

"Bite your tongue, woman."

Ayr turned and scowled at the screens hiding the cot. When she looked back at Madam Pomfrey, she saw that the healer was wearing the same scowl that she was. Seeing she had Ayr's attention again, she attempted a smile, but Ayr could tell the woman was at her wit's end. She started, as if realizing that Ayr had come in to ask her something.

"What can I do for you, child?"

Ayr smiled, suddenly remembering herself why she had come to the infirmary. Malfoy's presence had thrown her for a loop; she wanted to make sure he was okay, and wanted to smack him for his disrespect to Madam Pomfrey. Deciding she could do both, she smiled at the healer.

"I was wondering if you had a spare vial of Dreamless Draught," She admitted, blushing and suddenly feeling sheepish under Madame Pomfrey's curious gaze.

"Are you being contacted by the dead in your dreams?" The healer frowned when Ayr shook her head. "Is someone controlling you while you sleep? Are you casting spells in reality when you cast them in your dreams?"

"No…" Ayr bit her lip. "I've been having really… _disturbing_ nightmares lately. Nightmares that include people dying and it raining blood."

Madam Pomfrey stopped fussing with her skirt and fixed Ayr with a look that the Gryffindor couldn't interpret. After a moment or two, she flicked her wand at the quill, which stopped what it was doing and stood, waiting, over a fresh sheet of parchment. The healer turned and began looking through a cabinet.

"What was your most recent nightmare? I assume it was this evening, before you came to see me about the draught."

Ayr nodded and began telling her about the dream she had just had. The healer was watching her with careful eyes, and Ayr almost thought she saw pity in Madam Pomfrey's eyes. A sudden thought crossed her mind that she should be concerned about the healer's interest in her nightmares. Ayr brushed it off, reminding herself that Madame Pomfrey was only doing her job and asking the right questions before handing the potion over.

"How long have you been having these nightmares, Miss Trikk?"

Ayr bit her lip and thought back to the first time she dreamt about her father. The earlier dreams hadn't been nightmares, but they had led to them, so she figured it was safer to include them than to not.

"Since the first week of school," Ayr admitted, frowning when Madam Pomfrey clucked her tongue. "Is something wrong with me?"

"Nothing more than an overactive imagination and too much stress," the healer responded, pulling out a purple bottle. "Take a capful of this before you fall asleep."

"Thank you," Ayr smiled, taking the bottle and looking back over her shoulder. "Would it be alright if I said hello to Malfoy?"

"Be my guest," Madam Pomfrey replied, turning back to her cabinet and waving a hand. "Don't come crying to me when he bites your head off. Have a good night, Miss Trikk, and don't stay out of bed too long."

Ayr thanked the healer and left the office, making her way over to the screens at the near end of the room. She could see the shadowed figure moving behind the screen and sighed when she realized Malfoy was still awake. She slipped behind the screen, turning to put it back into its proper place. She turned and fixed Malfoy with a scowl. She almost dropped it when she took in his appearance; his skin looked rough and purple, as if he had suffered burns. She ignored the injuries, and locked eyes with him.

"You're an ungrateful git," She hissed, putting her bottle on his nightstand and crossing her arms. "What right do you have to be so nasty to her? She's only trying to help you."

"Spare me, Trikk," He spat, and took Ayr by surprise. "You don't have to hear her, hour after hour, complaining about 'evil' in her beds and how her magic could go to better uses."

"It's no wonder, if that's the way you've been talking to her," Ayr scowled. "Is this where you've been for the past week?"

She sat in the chair next to his bed, crossing her arms and legs and fixing him with a demanding gaze. He met her eyes with his own, and she almost frowned when she saw that the arrogant, cynical glint had returned. He was watching her carefully, and Ayr had the distinct impression that she was being tested on something.

"I don't believe that's any of your business, Trikk."

It was the second time in a row that he had used her last name, and Ayr didn't know how to react. She scolded herself – she had gotten too used to the decent Malfoy; she had no right to be upset when he reverted to his normal, loathsome self. His cold manner still irked her, however, and she had the mind to take the bottle of Dreamless Draught to the back of his head. Her eyes lingered on the purple bottle, the idea becoming more and more appealing. Malfoy's cold eyes followed her gaze, and he scoffed.

"Dreamless Draught?" He fixed her with a cynical sneer, leaning back against his pillows. "Having dreams about Daddy Dearest again?"

Ayr stiffened; whether it was at the mention of her father, or the fact that Malfoy was using this against her, she didn't know. She had showed him the letters that night in the library, and had told him that she often dreamt about her father. He hadn't said much when she had told him this, but had smiled comfortingly, as if he sympathized with her. Now, he was pushing this back at her, and it was pissing her off.

"What is your problem, Malfoy?" She seethed, narrowing her eyes to glare.

"_My_ problem?" He sneered and smirked at her. "I'm not the one with daddy issues."

She jerked as if he had slapped her. Ayr felt torn between the urge to cry, and the desire to strangle the prat. He was smirking, judging by her shocked expression that he had hit home. He lifted his hands and rested them behind his head, fixing her with a cool expression, daring her to rebuttle. She was trying to wrap her mind around the situation, and she took a deep breath before fixing him with a stare.

"Why are you suddenly acting like such an ass again?"

Malfoy's laugh was cold and apathetic. His eyebrow quirked itself in amusement, and his smirk was arrogant. There was an emptiness in his eyes that made Ayr realize she was frightened of Malfoy all over again.

"In case you haven't noticed, Trikk, this is nothing new." His voice was emotionless, and echoed eerily in the infirmary. "You shouldn't have let yourself grow used to anything different. Stupid girl – aren't you good at anything?"

Ayr stood and neared his bed, her clenched fists hidden by her crossed her arms. She had to keep them there before she gave him another broken nose. Her anger took over all other emotions, and Ayr was grateful for this – the last thing she wanted to do was start crying. She in close to his face, and narrowed her eyes at him.

"You're right," She hissed. "That was my mistake – to think you had a bit of decency somewhere inside of you. I won't make that mistake again. You're everything I hate, Lucius Malfoy, and I'm going to do everything I can to make sure I never see your despicable face again. "

She grabbed her Dreamless Draught, turned on her heel, and walked away from the sneering Malfoy before she decked him. The sound of the door to the Hospital Wing echoed through the infirmary as it closed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lucius Malfoy watched her walk away, and the scowl slowly slid from his face. His body ached, his mind was tired, and his heart had never been this conflicted in all of his seventeen years.

It wasn't the Furnunculus spell, that caused horrible boils on his skin, that bothered him. Nor was it the Stinging Hex, causing small burns on his body. Madam Pomfrey had lanced the boils, and treated the burns and sores with dittany and hellebore – there would be no scarring, she had said with a scowl, so he needn't worry about his pretty face. She had pressed him on who he was dueling with that would use such wicked charms, and had almost refused to continue treatment when he wouldn't answer her.

She hadn't noticed the serpent on his left fore-arm while treating him, and for that, Malfoy was grateful. The last thing he needed at the moment was to be questioned on why he bore the mark of Voldemort. The dark mark was hidden by a prying-eye charm, which concealed it to all Malfoy hadn't directly told about it.

His body would heal; his injuries were the least of his worries.

Lucius frowned as the door shut, and then scowled to cover his frown. The ignorant Gryffindor was getting herself into a world of trouble, and she didn't even realize that she was already knocking on danger's door. She frustrated him; he wanted badly to take her by the shoulders and shake her until her brain rattled around in her skull.

Ayr Trikk was the most infuriating woman he had ever encountered. She reeked of innocence – he could taste it on her lips when he kissed her. Her eyes held nothing but hope and wisdom; she hadn't been broken enough to hold cynicism. She trusted blindly, spoke openly, and cared wholly. There was nothing the girl did that was half-heartedly done. She paid no mind to blood status, and she could make a saint from a Death Eater. This last was the most disturbing to him – this was the problem Malfoy had with her.

He remembered the night in the library, the last time he had seen her. She had relaxed in his arms, trusting him to be the leader he was able to be. They had danced, and she had talked easily about her family; her mother had left her father, but she couldn't tell him exactly why, because their love had been too full of secrets. She had shown him the letters, and Lucius' heart had fallen when he read the words. He had been naïve enough to imagine he and Ayr in her parents' shoes, and had almost shouted in rage when he recognized the pattern. Their life would be no different than Ayr's parents' – full of love, hate, lies and secrets.

It was then that Malfoy knew he had grown too attached to the girl, a dangerous thing to do in his position.

He preferred the Slytherins that sucked up to him; they were easy to control and manipulate, and they were only interested in him on a superficial level. Ayr… Ayr couldn't have been one of those that feared him – no, that would have been much too easy. She had to be the one thing he couldn't control, the one person who wasn't afraid to take his act and shove it down his throat. Her optimism was completely intolerable.

Lucius Malfoy couldn't get enough of her.

There were times when they met, and he watched her. In the moments before she noticed, he would memorize the planes of her face, and the way the light danced on her skin. There was nothing dark in Ayr Trikk's eyes, and Malfoy was almost jealous of her for this. His nostrils flared as he recalled the scent of her hair under his nose. His fingers twitched when he felt the warmth of her body tingle up his arm. Her lips…

Malfoy snarled and stood, taking the bottle of Calming Draught on his nightstand and throwing it so that it shattered against the wall. He heard the healer gasp, but she didn't near him. He sat on the edge of the bed, his head held in his hands.

He wished that he wasn't born into this life; show no compassion to a world that showed none to him. He knew he could not change his lineage, and wished instead that the Dark Lord hadn't placed this task on him. He wished that there wasn't a Taboo charm placed on _his_ name, or the task hovering over Malfoy's head. Most of all, he wished that he still had it in his heart to despise Ayr Trikk and everything she stood for.

_It's too late for turning back_, he sneered at himself, _and too late for prayers and useless pity._

He had a job to do.

* * *

The Dreamless Draught had worked the way it was supposed to; Ayr had slept through the night without a single image running through her sleeping mind. Regardless, she woke feeling like she hadn't rested well at all. Her body was stiff and sore, as if she had held her body tense throughout the night. She felt the warmth of the sun on her face as it came in through the window, and turned her head to open her eyes.

"Sleeping Beauty wakes."

Isis came out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel through her hair while she walked. Ayr sat up and saw that the others were awake and moving as well. She rubbed the last remnants of sleep out of her eyes, and ran into the bathroom, relieving her bladder before showering quickly. She brushed her teeth, threw her hair into a ponytail, and slipped into a clean uniform.

"That's the quickest I've ever seen you move," Lily laughed softly and threw Ayr's shoulder back to her. "Come on, or we'll be late for breakfast."

Breakfast had been a quiet affair; students ambled in slowly, still waking up. The soft hum of conversation was soothing to Ayr, who noticed that her friends were giving her curious glances. She must have looked as tired and ragged as she felt. She smiled reassuringly, and stiffened when she felt the familiar weight of a gaze on her shoulders. She turned, scowling at Malfoy before situating herself so that Jessiey blocked her view of him. Sarah followed Ayr's gaze and frowned softly.

"Are you sure you don't fancy him?" She hissed into Ayr's ear.

Ayr closed her eyes, remembering how to breathe. Malfoy was a git, and had been one from the very first day of first year. A cumulative week of decent behavior meant nothing; why was she so irked at him for being the Malfoy she knew he was? She cast another long look past Jessiey, narrowing her eyes before answering Sarah.

"I'm positive," She answered flatly, standing and collecting her things when she noticed teachers beginning to leave their table. "I've got to talk to Professor Slughorn before class starts – I'll see you all there."

Her footsteps echoed loudly in the empty halls, and she ignored the feeling of being followed. It was Hogwarts, for Merlin's sake – she was being touchy and paranoid because of her dream last night. She shook her head and felt better at her half-hearted explanation, relieved when she reached the dungeons and the feeling stopped.

Slughorn looked up when she entered, smiling widely at her when she placed her bag at her seat. He stood up, abandoning the book he had been leaning over, and rounded his desk so that he could lean back against the front of it.

"A bit early this morning, aren't we, Miss Trikk?" He looked past her shoulder. "I see that Mister Malfoy isn't with you. I heard that our young Slytherin had been in the infirmary."

"Actually, Professor," She began, walking down to the front of the classroom to stand I front of Slughorn. "That's what I wanted to talk with you about. You see, I was wondering… Well, would it be at all possible to get another partner? After all, Malfoy's been missing for a week, and I hardly find it fair that I have to be responsible for catching him up to speed."

Slughorn's eyes glittered with amusement, and Ayr had the feeling that he didn't believe a word of her explanation. He raised his hand and, with a slightly disappointed smile, signaled the blackboard behind him.

"As you can see, Miss Trikk, all of the students in the class have already been assigned to a partner." He fixed her with a bemused stare, and then raised an eyebrow. "If you really feel it necessary, you and Mister Malfoy could work separately on the Amortentia. However, that means one of you will have to start from the very beginning – the homework, collecting the ingredients, etcetera. It really would be a terrible waste of time, Miss Trikk."

Ayr sighed quietly; leave it to Slughorn to try and talk her into staying with her partner. She didn't know why he was set on Malfoy and Ayr being together, but he seemed delighted when they had been selected to be partners. She tried to come up with a good reason to go it alone, but she sighed. She had never been _that _good at Potions – if it hadn't been for Lily and Courtney, she would have never made it to this advanced level. She ran a hand over her hair and sighed.

"Professor Slughorn," She began slowly. "I will stay with Malfoy, but I will take no responsibility if something accidentally happens to one of his fingers while we're cutting ingredients."

The professor laughed good-naturedly, and held his hand out to signal that Ayr should take her seat. Other students began to walk in, and Ayr grumbled when Malfoy sauntered through the door. She turned and sat in her seat, ignoring him before he could catch her eye. Jessiey and Lily came in, flanking her in either seat beside her.

Once everyone was seated, Professor Slughorn began class by telling them that they would be adding the frozen Ashwinder wings, wasting no time before telling the students to take their places by their stations. She growled under her breath, ignoring Malfoy's smirk as she joined him by their potion.

"Just stay out of my way today, Malfoy," She hissed under her breath.

"Hold your tongue, Trikk," He spat back at her, knocking her hand away when she reached for a volumetric cylinder. "Remember your place."

"My _place_," She growled under her breath, "Is about to be here with my foot up your arse."

Malfoy chuckled wickedly.

"Feisty today, I see." He leaned towards her ear, brushing her ear with his lips. "Careful, Trikk – you're exciting me."

Ayr's heart skipped a beat, and she turned to him, smiling sweetly. Before she lost her nerve, she picked up a vial of holy water, and upended it above Malfoy's head. Students gasped when Malfoy sputtered, shaking the water out of his eyes. The empty vial made a satisfying tinkling sound when she put it back on the table in front of her.

"You're going to regret that, Trikk," He seethed.

"Trust me," She said, turning to the table and working as if nothing had happened. "I'm regretting a lot of things lately."


	10. Daddy Issues

**Chapter Ten  
**_(Daddy Issues)_

The halls were silent as she moved through them; the Prefects had finally finished their rounds, and Malfoy had left his station as soon as his two hours were up. Ayr circled every floor once to make sure that there was no one wandering the halls, and then skipped down the Grand Staircase until she reached the ground floor. At first, she saw no one, and then the shadows moved.

Sirius met her eyes, and they were reserved. Potter was leaning against the wall with a sour expression, and Remus was looking everywhere but at Ayr. Peter kept shifting his eyes from one boy to the other, pacing nervously as he waited for them to start moving. Shifting from one foot to the other, Ayr felt oddly out of her element.

"They… they did know I was coming, right?"

Sirius looked over his shoulder and nodded before turning back to Ayr. He led her by the elbow, across the hall, and ducked his head close to her ear.

"They aren't happy about this," He whispered in her ear. "They told me I was reckless for allowing you to come along; Remus has never been around someone besides the three of us when he changes."

Ayr nodded, and her stomach turned to lead before threatening to eject that night's dinner. She had been in an odd mood since Potions that morning, and her sudden attack of anxiety did nothing to ease her mind. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she leaned to whisper in Sirius' ear, her eyes one the men behind him.

"He won't… I mean, I'll be…"

"He's not going to hurt you, Ayr," Sirius smiled reassuringly, patting her shoulder.

"_Will_ I be okay? Should I not have come?"

Sirius smiled in his secretive, knowing way, and extended his arm. Ayr looked at it curiously before wrapping her arms around it, leaning into his body. Sirius looked over, caught Potter's eye, and nodded. The boy pushed himself off of the wall and passed them, leading the small group out onto the grounds of the castle. Potter, Remus, and Peter continued foreward, but Sirius pulled Ayr to a stop.

"It's going to be dark on the way there," He mumbled to her, dropping her arm and stepping away. "When I come back, grab onto my fur and I'll lead you there – and don't worry, Ayr, everything is going to be fine."

Ayr stood silently as Sirius walked away from her, trying to control her body as it shook from anticipation. She heard the sickening, distinct sound of bones breaking and rearranging, and Ayr closed her eyes, choking back a sob. She felt something warm brush up against her leg, and she jumped, letting out a yelp of surprise. A black dog sat by her leg, smiling up at her in the way only dogs could. She exhaled quickly, sliding her hand tentatively over his head and sinking her fingers into the scruff of his neck.

Sirius stood on all fours, and growled softly when the other canine neared Ayr. She tensed, hoping that Remus couldn't smell her fear, or she wouldn't last another two seconds. His nose moved in the snow around her feet, and she felt as if she was going to pass out. The stag – James, Ayr forced herself to think – placed his horns against the wolf's side and pushed, nudging him away from Ayr and the castle.

Peter scurried ahead of them, and they followed. As they left the light of the castle, Ayr's hand tightened in Sirius' fur – it was warm and comforting, and holding onto something was helping to control her shaking. She used her free hand to pull her cloak tighter around her, trying to ward off the chill. The dark pressed in around her, and Ayr wondered why she had agreed to do this; perhaps the darkness was getting to her, but Ayr felt positive that someone was following them. She turned, and saw nothing but dancing shadows. She frowned, and faced forward again, not being able to shake the feeling of someone's eyes on her back.

A soft groaning reached Ayr's ears, and she paused slightly when she realized that they were nearing the Whomping Willow. Remembering Emily Brass, lying in the Hospital Wing, Ayr swallowed the lump forming in her throat. After a moment, the groaning stopped, and an incessant squeaking started. Her eyes sought out the rat, and she saw Peter leaning on a small knot in the base of the ancient tree.

James nudged Remus towards an opening in the base of the tree that Ayr had never been close enough to notice before. The two animals – _boys_ – disappeared under the ground, and Sirius lead Ayr to the hole. He nudged her by the small of her back until she finally sat and reluctantly slid down into a tunnel. She heard a soft bark and jumped forward as Sirius joined them; above, the groaning had begun again, and Peter scurried down into the tunnel with them.

The earthen tunnel stretched forever ahead of them. Ayr followed Sirius carefully, sometimes having to step over or duck under roots. Her calves were beginning to cramp from walking over the uneven terrain, and her back was screaming in pain from being hunched over for so long. She decided it must have been easier if you were an animal, and laughed cynically at the thought of her joining Sirius' four-footed escapades.

The end of the tunnel came not a moment too soon. Ayr waited patiently as Remus, James, and Peter left the tunnel. Sirius nudged her up the three earthen stairs, and she stumbled into a room. She blinked, looking around her in shock and taking in her surroundings.

The room, and presumably the attached house, had been abandoned many years ago. The walls were leaning in towards the room, and where the wallpaper wasn't faded and falling off, the walls were decaying. The ceiling sagged threateningly, and mold grew on the exposed beams above their head. The floorboards had rotted out long ago, and Ayr could see the dirt floor underneath of the house through the holes in the wood. She realized with a start that they had walked underneath Hogsmeade, and into the Shrieking Shack.

"You can explore, if you'd like."

Ayr turned to see that Sirius had taken his human form again. She glanced pointedly at the peeling wallpaper, and then the decaying floorboards. She let the sarcastic laugh in her throat bubble out and shook her head.

"I think I'll stay right here, thanks."

Sirius' eyebrows rose and he smiled, taking her by the elbow.

"I'll show you around," He said decisively, leading her out of the room. "Don't worry – we've been coming here for seven years. I know where to step to avoid breaking a leg."

Ayr rolled her eyes, not finding much comfort in his statement. Regardless, and because she didn't have much of a choice, she followed Sirius out of the room. He gave her the grand tour of the not so grand house. Shivers wracked her spine as the rumors flooded her mind; this is the house of Riddle, and she really had no desire to end up like that family had. She started watching the shadows, expecting something to reach out and attack her. When Remus howled in hungered torment, Ayr jumped so violently that Sirius laughed.

"Would you relax? Nothing is going to happen," He teased, leading her around a rotten spot on the floor. "I promise."

The two descended stone stairs, and ended up in a dank basement. Ayr looked around and frowned at her sudden sense of déjà vu, but couldn't figure out why this place seemed familiar. She and Sirius turned around to look at the room, which wasn't in any better condition than the rest of the house. Sirius smiled and shrugged a shoulder, and made his way to the stairs. Something in the house dropped, and Ayr jumped.

"What was that?"

"James keeping Remus under control," He replied, but his eyes told her something else.

"Should we go check?" She whispered to him, her eyes wide and wary.

He nodded, and flicked his fingers at her, motioning her forward. There was a soft groan, and Ayr jerked back when someone's foot landed on the first step. Her eyes lifted slowly, a scream bubbling in her throat when she didn't see any of the Marauders coming down the steps. She gripped onto Sirius' arm as they backed away from the stairs, and the man floated down the stairs until he landed in front of them.

"At last."

The man's voice was hallow, passing through dry, cracked lips. There were dark, sunken circles under his eyes, which were flicking back and forth between Sirius and Ayr. His skin was tight and wax-like, and he seemed emaciated, as if he had stretched himself out too thin. He wasn't all human, but Ayr couldn't think of anything else to call him. Something in her mind stirred, and she gasped when a name for the man in front of her bubbled up her throat.

"Voldemort."

The next thing from Ayr's mouth was a scream, which Voldemort silenced by pointing his wand at her chest. Sirius stepped in front of her, his fear hidden by the need to protect. Voldemort's face split into a smirk, and with the flick of his wand and a short incantation, Sirius' feet left the ground, his wand clattering out of his hand and landing on the ground. Another flick of the Dark Lord's wand sent Sirius crashing into a wall, where the Gryffindor slumped to the ground.

Ayr let out another short, terrified scream. She glanced at Voldemort and ran over to Sirius, kneeling next to the boy and biting back a sob. Sirius' leg was bent at an awkward angle, and Ayr had to look away before the bone poking out of the skin made her vomit. She placed her hand on Sirius' shoulder and stood, facing Voldemort.

The Dark Lord walked slowly towards the Gryffindors, and kicked Sirius' broken leg. The boy let out a muffled shout of pain, but nothing else.

"Learn your place, blood traitor," The Dark Lord hissed, stepping on the injured limb.

"Stop it!"

Ayr pressed herself back against the wall when the Dark Lord turned his amused to her. She shrunk back as much as she could, trying to get as far away from Voldemort as possible. He pressed closer to her, and smirked at the sight of her frightened tears.

"Ayr," He sighed, seeming disappointed. "Why are you crying?"

Ayr felt like she was going to vomit. She managed to keep her stomach out of her throat, and tried many times, unsuccessfully, to speak. When she could finally open her mouth without biting off her tongue with chattering teeth, she swallowed audibly and couldn't meet his eyes.

"How do you know my name?"

The sound that came out of the Dark Lord's mouth was supposed to be a laugh, but it sent shivers up her spine. He stepped forwards, making Ayr shrink even further back into the wall. She turned her head when he pressed his face neared her, and she closed her eyes, breathing through her nose.

"You haven't figured it out yet, Ayr Trikk?"

Ayr's jaw clenched in fear and confusion, and she still couldn't meet his eyes. She could taste her own fear, and she scolded herself. If he had wanted her dead, she'd be dead by now – right? She stared down at Sirius, her tears starting fresh when she took in his broken leg. Her mouth was opening and closing, but the only sound coming from it was the rasping of her own choked sobs.

"I can't help but wonder, however, why you were not placed into Slytherin, where you belong."

The mention of Malfoy's house began hardening her fear into anger, and her anger into bitter hatred. She lifted her eyes to meet his, and she saw that they weren't dark, as she thought they were going to be. They were blue, and reminded her vaguely of Malfoy's. This turned the coal of hate simmering into her gut into a full-blown fire.

"What are you talking about?" She hissed, pleased that her voice hadn't cracked.

"I was told you've read all of the letters," The Dark Lord mused. "I was even told that you had seen pictures."

The words were going in one ear and out the other. Ayr was paying attention enough, but she didn't comprehend anything that was being said. Someone had told the Dark Lord about letters? What letters? Ayr frowned when she thought about the letters between her parents – why were they important to Voldemort? She bit the inside of her cheek and lowered her eyes again.

"I don't know what you're talking about," She mumbled.

The Dark Lord raised an eyebrow – if you could call the fat above his eye that – and turned over his shoulder. He called out, and the name hit Ayr's gut like an iron fist. Her eyes raised slowly when he came down the steps, the dim lighting in the basement making his normally white hair a pale gold. His eyes were empty when they met hers, and then she noticed the bundles of letters that he carried in his hand.

"You," She hissed, glaring.

Malfoy said nothing, but handed the letters to Voldemort, who smirked with a twisted sense of pleasure as he took them. He opened one after the other, scanning them before tossing them aside. Ayr wanted to shout at him, but her tongue had been glued to the roof of her mouth since Malfoy had come in. The room was spinning, and she slid down the wall, grateful when her butt hit the ground. She gripped Sirius' hand, choosing to stare at his injured leg rather than at Mafloy, who was staring down at her apathetically.

"Are you going to help him kill us, too?" She hissed at Malfoy, who jerked as if she had hit him.

"Kill you?" Voldemort laughed, and the sound was wicked. "My dear child, I am not going to _kill_ you! Have you _still_ not figured it out?"

He rooted through one of the envelopes, which hadn't been in the bundle before. He pulled out two photographs, holding them up pointedly before throwing them next to her. With shaking hands, Ayr reached for them; her heart stopped when she recognized the pictures her mother had sent with the letters and scarf. Something made her look closer at the picture of her father, and her eyes flicked back and forth between the Dark Lord and the picture in her hand.

She leaned over, away from Sirius, and threw up violently. When she couldn't throw up anymore, she pulled her knees into her chest, leaning her head back against the wall. She studied the man in front of her, tears of anger now leaking from her eyes. The hair on his head was dark and thin, where it had once been thick and lush. His skin was waxy, his face sallow, and his eyes hid something dark. The resemblance between the Dark Lord and the man in the picture was barely noticeable at this point; this man – her _father_ – had become something less than human.

"Why, Malfoy, I think she's got it!" Voldemort's wan smile stretched his thin face, and he resembled a snake. "You have pleased me this time, Malfoy. Approach me, so that I may thank you for your services."

Keeping his eyes on Ayr, the Dark Lord held his hand out, and Malfoy placed his left wrist into his grasp. Bony fingers circled Malfoy's arm, and Voldemort placed the tip of his wand against Malfoy's forearm. Ayr could see the skin rippling gently, and she wanted to throw up again at the sight of the Dark Mark covering Malfoy's arm, but there was nothing inside of her to eject. Instead, her heart turned to lead, and she glared at the Slytherin.

_You've lost it, Trikk_, Ayr was repeating to herself. _You've gone completely mad, you nutter._

"You may go now," Voldemort told Malfoy once the skin stopped rippling; Malfoy's face relaxed, as if he were no longer in pain. "Thank you for alerting me to her presence here – your task is complete, Malfoy."

Ayr shivered as she watched the Dark Lord place a kiss upon Malfoy's forehead. The Slytherin bowed low, raising his eyes to meet Ayr's. She narrowed her eyes, and if her mouth hadn't been so dry, she'd have spit on him. As it were, he stood, watching her until he turned, walked up the stairs, and left the basement.

Voldemort watched him go, smiling down at Ayr when he finally turned towards her. Ayr could nearly hear his voice in her head – _you are alone here, Ayr Trikk_. Ayr raised her chin, meeting the Dark Lord's eyes as he flicked his wand, and something appeared in his hand. She eyes the sphere warily, narrowing her eyes at the label – _T.M.R. & A.G.T_. She would wake up soon, she knew, if she could just hang in a few more minutes.

"Do you know what this is, Ayr?" He watched with a bemused smile when she nodded. "Our prophecy - and do you know what it says?"

"How could I know what it says if it's obviously never been heard before?" Ayr hissed, glaring pointedly at the unbroken state of the orb.

The smile melted off of Voldemort's face, and the look that replaced it gave Ayr the impression that she should refrain from mouthing off to him in the future. His eyes bore into her soul as he tipped his hand, and Ayr flinched as the globe rolled out of it. Sirius, who had been slipping in and out of conscious, jumped at the sound of the glass shattering; a sighing voice filled the room, sending chills up Ayr's spine.

"_Seventeen years after blood has separated… Father and daughter will reunite. Guarded by the ancient walls of Hogwarts, one will find Ayr Gabrielle Trikk. Look to the full moon in the ancient house of death to find the joining of pure blood. All shall be revealed, all dark truths told, and dark secrets unveiled."_

Ayr's head was shaking, her mind shutting down to preserve her sanity. Sirius' eyes were wide but aware, and he was looking from Voldemort, to Ayr, to the shattered glass on the floor, and then back again. Ayr pressed herself against the wall, trying to wake up; the concrete biting into her skin did nothing to help her back to reality, nor did her cloak help ward of the chill that had settled itself in her bones.

"You're lying," She whispered, staring at the broken glass. "It's not talking about us… someone else is supposed to meet me here…"

"Denial is not flattering, child," Voldemort frowned crossly, and then motioned to the house around him. "Has it not been seventeen years? Are we not in the ancient house of death – _my_ ancient house?"

"It's a lie…" Her voice didn't carry the conviction she wanted to, and Voldemort's smile returned.

"Rejoice, daughter! You were destined for greatness!" Voldemort's smile was smug and his eyes held a guilty gleam. "Together, we shall make this world pure!"

Ayr was shaking her head slowly, her eyes vacant. Sirius couldn't close his mouth; his jaw was locked open in surprise. Ayr's hand lifted slowly to stifle a sob. Voldemort looked on in disgust, but said nothing, letting his daughter grieve the loss of her innocent life. She finally lowered her hand, and he watched as it shook violently.

"How did you find me?" Ayr shook her head and closed her eyes. "_Here._ How did you find me _here_? The prophecy had never been heard before -"

The Dark Lord's devious cackle cut off her words, and he shook his head, looking slightly amused.

"Ayr, you are not as smart as I had given you credit for," He sneered, waving a hand of dismissal. "Malfoy has been most helpful. He has been my eyes and ears in places I cannot enter."

Her heart fell to her feet, and the last bit of hope she had harbored for Malfoy vanished. Sirius let out a slow breath, and Ayr knew there would be hell raised when they returned to Hogwarts – _if_ they returned. She was still shaking her head, and Voldemort sneered in disgust.

"I grow tired of your sniveling, daughter." He pointed her wand at her, and she stiffened. "Let your blood-traitor be witness – I shall show you your true potential. _Dorchadaisaol_!"

Ayr's sobs were cut off as her airway constricted. Sirius shouted as her body lifted off of the ground; she hung limply as she stared at the ceiling. Her blonde hair darkened and grew, until black silk hung to her back. Her limbs lengthened – just noticeably so. Voldemort exhaled slowly, and Sirius winced as he watched the smoky breath leaving his mouth entered Ayr's. She gasped, taking her first breath since being in the air.

Voldemort lowered her slowly, and her feet touched softly on the ground. The Dark Lord's bony hand extended towards the girl; she stared at the hand for a moment, and Sirius held onto the hope that somewhere in that new body, his friend Ayr was still fighting for control. He gasped when she turned her eyes on him; the color of blood surrounded her dilated pupils, and the hope was gone. She stepped over him and turned to face the Dark Lord, placing her hand in his.

"What did you do to her?" Sirius shouted, wincing past the pain coursing through his body.

"Be silent, blood traitor!" Voldemort stepped on Sirius' broken leg, and smirked when the boy cried out in pain. Voldemort turned to Ayr and held open his arms. "My daughter."

Sirius willed Ayr to walk away; hope was practically oozing from his pores. He frowned when she stepped into his arms – albeit hesitantly. Sirius' heart shattered with one word.

"Father."

Ayr didn't try to pull away, nor did she seem to want to. As suddenly as the first change had taken over her body, however, it reversed itself. She stiffened, and Sirius could see the confusion that flashed through her eyes. She jerked, and pulled back from Voldemort. Glaring at him, she ducked her head and spit on the ground by his feet.

"I may share your blood," She admitted, hotly. "But I will never share your ideals, you rat bastard!"

Something dark flashed through the Dark Lord's eyes, and he raised his hand threateningly. Ayr flinched, but didn't back away. Slowly, his face split into a smile, and his hand lowered. He stepped back, inclining his head towards Ayr.

"My work is complete for now," He began tauntingly. "We will meet again soon, _daughter_."

There was a sharp _crack_, and Voldemort disapperated from the Shrieking Shack. Sirius watched Ayr collapse in on herself; she let out a strangled sob, and she wrapped her arms around herself. She stared at the spot where the Dark Lord had just been standing. Finally, she dragged her eyes away from the spot and looked at Sirius. She let out a shuddering gasp and ran over to him.

"Sirius," She sobbed. "Oh, Sirius, I'm so sorry."

He waved a hand stiffly, his face pale. Ayr bit back a sob when he told her that this wasn't her doing; he wouldn't look her in the eye. He looked as if he were about to stand, and then thought better of it. He slumped back against the wall, a thin layer of sweat coating his face.

"Where are the others?" He growled through the pain. "Go check on the others – tell them to head to the castle."

Ayr rose and turned, running up the stone steps and making her way carefully through the rotting house. She looked in every room she passed, stopping and backtracking when she saw the werewolf and stag slumped in the center of the floor, unconscious. Peter was nowhere to be seen, and Ayr hoped he had hidden when the Dark Lord had attacked his friends. She pointed her wand, muttered _reenervate_, and stepped back when they began to stir.

"James?" She whispered, sighing in relief when the stag turned to her. "Sirius… he's been hurt. He said to send you to the castle ahead of us."

The stag lowered his head, signaling that he had heard and understood her. She turned and ran out of the room, picking through the house until she entered the basement again. She frowned down at Sirius, and pointed her wand at his leg.

"_Ferula_," She mumbled softly, causing a splint and bandages to wrap around Sirius' leg; the boy's face paled even more. "I'm sorry! I'm not confidant enough in my healing magic to try to fix it… I think that's better left to Madam Pomfrey."

Sirius nodded stiffly, and Ayr helped him stand, new tears leaking from her eyes as he groaned. She helped him up the stairs, and eventually to the tunnel. She had no idea how long they moved through the tunnel; Sirius' face had turned so white, Ayr thought he was going to pass out. They eventually made it to the Hospital Wing, and Ayr immediately understood why she felt so drained; the clock on the wall told her it was just after four in the morning.

"Miss Trikk, I'm seeing a lot of you lately," Madam Pomfrey huffed, coming out of her office. Her eyes widened when she took in Sirius' leg, oozing blood through the small hole in his pants. "Merlin's beard! Mister Black, what _happened_ to you?"

"I fell," He mumbled, shooting Ayr a look: _tonight stays a secret._ "I… jumped the stairs in the common room. Stupid, really."

Madam Pomfrey made a noise that made it clear she agreed with him. She directed Ayr to lead Sirius to a bed, and once Sirius was lying down, the healer came over, her wand pointed at the leg. She muttered one spell, shearing the pants leg above the protruding bone, and then glanced at Ayr.

"You may want to cover your ears, Miss Trikk."

Ayr looked on in confusion, and then jumped when Sirius shouted. The bone retracted into the skin, connecting with the other half with a sickening snap. His face paled, but he seemed to be able to breathe easier now that his bone was reconnected. Madam Pomfrey turned as a bottle danced into her hand, and she poured a capful, handing it to Sirius.

"Drink this," She instructed, closing the bottle once he had. "You'll be staying here tonight, Mister Black. Miss Trikk, thank you for bringing him here – you ought to go get some sleep."

Ayr nodded and turned to Sirius. She wrapped his upper body with her arms, and was pleased when he didn't stiffen or try to pull away.

"I'm sorry," She whispered into his ear and kissed his cheek. "I'll tell the others that you're okay."

"Good night, Ayr," He called after her, smiling softly as she walked away.

She was shaking again by the time she reached the common room. She sighed with relief when the only people seated there were the other three Marauders. They stood as she entered, worry clear on their faces.

"Is he alright?" James asked, stepping forward.

"He's fine," She promised. "Madam Pomfrey fixed his leg, and she's keeping him overnight."

They nodded, and an awkward silence fell over the room. It was then that she knew the boys were aware of who had attacked them. She shifted from foot to foot, and Remus rubbed the back of his neck, a question clear on his face. He opened his mouth, and Ayr shook his head.

"I don't know," She sighed. "I _don't_. I don't know _why_ or _how_… or even _what_. I _do_ know that no one can know about this. Please – not yet. Please?"

The boys nodded stiffly, and she hugged each one of them in turn. She bid them good night, and headed up to her room. Walking in, she saw the tail end of the green and black scarf, and seethed. Pointing her wand, she muttered _relashio_, and watched as the fiery sparks caught the cloth on fire. The fire ate at the cloth until there was nothing but ashes that fell to the ground. She swallowed a capful of Dreamless Draught, and fell onto her bed, exhausted.


	11. Problematic Potion

**Chapter Eleven  
**_(Problematic Potion)_

"She hasn't stopped throwing up!"

Ayr heard Courtney call out to her friends, who came rushing into the bathroom. The huddled around the outside of the stall, knocking on the door and demanding she open it. They eventually gave up, and sat around the bathroom; Lily and Jessiey sat on the counter, playing with the faucets. Courtney, Isis and Sarah sat by the door, and Ayr warned them that if they stuck their heads under the door one more time, she'd _Confund_ them into oblivion.

"Ayr," Sarah called into her, "Are you pregnant?"

Ayr tried to laugh, but the movement in her stomach triggered her gag reflex, and she threw up instead. Finally and fortunately, her body began dry heaving, and then she stopped. She wiped her mouth with the bathroom tissue, threw it in the toilet, and then flushed away the mess. Her friends looked up at her expectantly when she walked out, and she scowled.

"I am _not_ pregnant," She declared. "I just ate something strange last night, that's all."

Her friends looked at her incredulously, insisting that couldn't be the case. They had all eaten the same thing at dinner, they argued. Ayr grumbled mentally, wondering why her friends couldn't learn to leave a subject alone. She finally smiled in what she hoped was a sheepish way and ducked her head abashedly.

"Honestly," She began with a sigh, tucking a piece of stray hair behind her ear. "I'm a bit nervous about Potions class this morning."

Groans chorused throughout the room, and Ayr sighed with satisfaction. It hadn't been a lie – she really _wasn't_ looking forward to that morning's Potions class. The Amortentia had been completed, and the students were to administer the potion to their partners today. With a chagrined smile, Ayr followed her friends out of their dorm room, not sure she was up to the task of eating.

"What happened to _you_?"

Ayr turned when Jessiey's surprised demand brought her attention to the Marauders, who were coming out of their dorm as well. Sirius was walking with a slight limp, but Ayr was relieved to see that his face had regained its color. The boys nodded their greeting, and Ayr smiled at them when they met her eyes; perhaps last night had been a bad dream, after all. Sirius mad his way slowly down the stairs, and Ayr's hopeful delusion shattered.

"I fell trying to jump the stairs," Sirius replied, smiling in his goofy fashion. "It takes a lot to impress you, Wright."

Jessiey blushed furiously and swatted him on the shoulder, scowling at his slow movement.

"You _will_ be able to play tonight, won't you?" She demanded crossly. "Our second game is against Slytherin is tonight, Black!"

"Relax," He smiled again. "I'll be right as rain by the end of classes. We'll hand them their arses on platters one way or the other."

Jessiey seemed pleased with his response, and led the way out of the common room. Ayr could hear the worried whispers of Courtney, and the reassuring tone of Remus as they walked behind her. They were bickering about him looking so sick again; Ayr shook her head – if only Courtney knew.

Breakfast passed without incident, though Ayr's suspicions were confirmed when the smell of food made her stomach churn. She sat with her back to the Slytherins, ignoring the weight of someone's gaze on her shoulders. After too long for Ayr's comfort, the students began filing out of the Great Hall, making their way towards their first class of the day. With a groan of dismay, Ayr followed her friends to Potions, where Slughorn was waiting. He clapped his hands immediately after students had taken their seats, and smiled as he began talking.

"This is it!" He exclaimed, his hands waving around wildly. "This is _it_, students – the day we've been preparing for! Now, remember – we will be observing effects, both positive and negative. After five minutes, I will administer the antidote. Please be mature about this – remember, _everyone_ will be under the potion's influence at some point today."

With a wink, he looked at a list in his hand and called a blushing Remus and Narcissa Black up to the front of the room. Courtney glared in seething silence as they downed the potion, and proceeded to stare at each other. Not much was said; Remus gazed in adoration at the blonde, and Narcissa flicked her hair over her shoulder and batted her long lashes. Eventually, Remus reached for her hand, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles, and Narcissa giggled rather girlishly.

The five minutes passed in silence, and Slughorn gave them both the antidote, claiming that it would help them fall into a deeper state of love. They straightened, and Remus let out a soft cough. On his way back to his seat, the blushing Gryffindor stopped by Courtney's sulking frame, and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, mumbling an apology.

"Miss Evans and Mister Potter, please."

Lily pushed her seat back with a growl, stalking up to the front of the room. She glanced at the potion, and down it before she changed her mind. Potter swallowed his easily, setting down the vial and blinking. He turned to Lily, placing his elbows on the counter in front of him, and rested his chin in his hands. He wiggled his fingers at her, and she giggled.

"You're beautiful, you know," He sighed contently.

"Oh, aren't you the sweetest!" She reached across the counter and pinched his cheek playfully. "You know, you're not so bad when you're not trying to woo me."

"Oh, but Lily," Potter waggled his eyebrows. "I am _trying_ to woo you."

"I don't mind now," She giggled.

The rest of the five minutes carried on this way. The two giggled and tapped each other playfully, arguing over who was cuter, or more adorable, or smarter. Ayr noticed with a giggle that even in her love-stupor state, Lily didn't argue very hard when Potter said that Lily was the smarter of the two. She was pleased to know _some_ things didn't change in an induced amorous state. The antidote was administered, and both Gryffindors walked to their seats silently, seemingly embarrassed with their behavior.

"Mister Malfoy and Miss Trikk, you're next."

Ayr stiffened, an angry flush creeping up her neck and onto her cheeks. She turned her head to look at Malfoy, who was staring at her vacantly. She scowled, and he sneered, and they stood together to make their way to the front. Ayr reached for the vial of her potion when it floated out of the cabinet, and she gripped it so hard she thought it would bust in her hand. Malfoy reached for his, his jaw clenched as he glared at Ayr with narrowed eyes.

"You two may take the potion whenever you're ready," Professor Slughorn prompted.

"Let's get this over with," Ayr hissed, lifting the vial to her mouth. "Then I can go back to despising the ground you walk on."

Malfoy said nothing, and then tipped the vial back, his throat convulsing as he swallowed. Their vials clanked down onto the counter at the same time, and they turned to continue glaring at each other.

Within seconds, the potion flowed down Ayr's throat, a warm tingling spreading through her body in its wake. She was trying as hard as she could to continue glaring, but she found it hard to remember exactly why she was glaring at him in the first place. He wasn't easy to glare at; his hair reflected the light perfectly as it framed his crystalline eyes. She noticed that his face was softening, and a smile was lifting the corners of his mouth.

"Hello," He breathed, as if seeing her for the first time.

"Hello, yourself," She heard herself say, a giggle bubbling out of her throat.

He rounded the counter, walking slowly until he stood in front of her. At first, he said nothing, content simply to look down into her eyes. Then his hand lifted hers, and Ayr's arm felt like it was on fire as tingles shot through it. He brushed his lips across her knuckles, and then placed her hand on his face, holding it there as he nuzzled into it. Ayr stared in a silent stupor, not able to bring herself to move from his warmth.

"You're beautiful," He whispered, and Ayr could hear rustling as people leaned forward in their seats. "Like the world after the rain."

The blush crept into her cheeks, and she could feel something stir deep in her stomach when his eyes locked with hers. There was something dark, but it was along the lines of a devious lust rather than a hidden agenda. Something stirred in Ayr's mind, but she couldn't place her finger on what it was that was irking her. Ignoring it and pushing it aside, she let herself get lost in Malfoy's smoldering eyes.

"You're standing too close," She whispered, trying to catch her breath. "I can't breathe."

He chuckled softly, and it transformed him into a completely different person. He took another step forward, pressing his body against Ayr's and forcing her to lean back into the counter. His hand reached out and caught a strand of her hair, and he tucked it behind her ear, letting his fingers trail down her cheek.

"Is that better?"

She didn't trust her voice to speak, so she shook her head. She shivered when his fingers trailed down her neck, tracing over her shoulder, arm, hip, and thigh. He moved his hands to splay on the counter, trapping her between the surface and his body. His nose pressed against her neck, and she let out a slow sigh, shivering as he tickled her skin.

"Lucius," She gasped softly. "You're suffocating me."

The chuckle rumbled through his chest, and Ayr could feel the vibrations. She wanted to crawl inside of his body, to get as close to him as she could. He was wonderful; handsome, charming, with a body that made hers quake as it pressed against her. He was the reason the sun rose and set each night. She loved him in that moment, and something in her mind tugged; she wasn't supposed to love him, but she didn't know why.

"I love you."

His voice was husky in her ear, and she felt as if she were going to melt into a puddle at his feet. Her brain wasn't working properly, and she vaguely heard the soft murmuring of the classroom behind her – _did he just tell her he loved her? Amortentia can't replicate love._ Ayr almost stiffened when she remembered why she couldn't have loved him, but the thought went as quickly as it came when his chest brushed against hers, drawing a soft moan as the cloth of her bra brushed over her taut nipples.

"Tea for two?"

Ayr pulled her eyes away from Lucius' face, and looked down on the counter to where Professor Slughorn had placed two steaming cups of tea. Lucius smiled, and picked up both cups, handing one to Ayr and saluting her. They clinked glassed, and Ayr smiled as the warm liquid slid down her throat, warming from head to toe.

Her body stiffened, and she looked up at a rather shocked Malfoy. She remembered both reasons why she couldn't have loved him at that moment – he was a traitor, and Amortentia _couldn't_ make a person feel love. Refusing to face the other option, she rolled her eyes up and glared into his.

"What did you just say to me?" She hissed.

She crossed her arms to put distance between them; she suddenly wished love potions didn't let the drinker remember the events that took place under the potion's influence. Malfoy was staring at her again, but his eyes weren't vacant this time. Confusion, pain, and anger flashed through them, and she pushed him away from her.

"I will have your tongue cut out for telling lies," She spat at him, quoting him verbatim. "Stay the hell away from me, Malfoy, and stay the hell out of my life."

She turned on her heel to walk to her seat, but a hand shot out and caught her arm. She heard him whisper her name, and when he turned her to face him, she met his cheek with her palm. The class gasped and drew back in their seats, and she glowered at him. His eyes locked onto hers, and all prior emotions were gone; his body seeped anger from every pore. He jerked her into his body and growled into her ear.

"You will regret crossing me, Trikk," He hissed.

"Trust me," She spat back, not bothering to be quiet. "I already do."

* * *

The air whipped around her face bitterly, but Ayr felt a rush of adrenaline when Washburn caught the quaffle and threw it to Jessiey, who hooted with glee. Jessiey's black hair was pulled into a tight bun, but there were stray strands that flicked around her head, making her resemble a modern-day Medusa. The thought made Ayr laugh softly as she caught the ball, speeding off towards the Slytherin goals as a decoy.

When she had the Slytherin Chasers' attention, she tossed the ball quickly to Jessiey, who was stationed in front of the middle goal. Washburn flew above her head, and she tossed him the quaffle, shouting when he threw it neatly into the far right hoop. The Slytherin Keeper caught it and tossed it to one of the Catchers, and Ayr followed them down the pitch.

Jessiey's shout of rage made Ayr turn her head in time to see and dodge the bludger coming off of Pyles' club. She scowled, realizing she had lost the gain she had on the Catchers in front of her. There was a roar of dismay in the crowds as the Slytherins neared the goal, but a cheer erupted when Marsico hit the quaffle away with the end of her broom.

Jessiey was there to catch the rebound, and she tossed it to Washburn before taking off down the pitch. Ayr reached for the quaffle when it was thrown to her, pulling it into her body and leaning down against the handle, gaining speed as she flew towards Slytherin's goals. She felt the weight of eyes on her, and grew momentarily annoyed at Malfoy's staring. It was then that she realized this stare felt different; a shiver passed through her spine. She pulled her broom to a stop, frowned, and looked around.

_Don't be stupid, Trikk_, She chastised herself. _He can't get onto school grounds – that's why he had to meet you in Hogsmeade._

The thought did little to help, and Ayr was pulled out of her stupor when she felt something fall out of her arms. Shouts rained down from the stands as a Slytherin Catcher took off with the quaffle after having taken it right from Ayr's arm. She scowled after him, and took off to tail him. She stopped short when Malfoy pulled in front of her.

"What's wrong, Trikk?" He sneered, smirking wickedly. "Daddy issues getting to you?"

He laughed cynically and flew off; Ayr followed him with her eyes, which were beginning to throb. Sirius pulled up beside her and pulled on her arm, pressing his mouth against her ear. His fingers cut into her flesh, but Ayr was too preoccupied to care.

"Watch it, Ayr," Sirius hissed warningly. "Your eyes are changing."

"Ask me if I care," She seethed, taking his club from his hand.

"What's this?" The announcer called, clearly confused. "It seems Gryffindor Chaser Ayr Trikk has taken the club from Sirius Black, Gryffindor Beater."

Potter looked down from his search for the Snitch, waving his arms wildly before shouting down to her.

"Trikk, you nutter! Get your head in the game!"

Ayr smirked and flew past Sirius, who was staring with understanding and shocked eyes. Pyles' eyes locked onto her, and he hit the bludger towards her head. She dodged, but pulled her arm back, knocking the bludger back towards the Slytherins. Someone shouted out a warning, but when Malfoy turned, he was too late. The bludger smashed his nose with a satisfying crunch, and Ayr smirked as she threw the club back to Sirius. Below them, a shrill whistle was blowing; Ayr looked down to scowl at Madam Hooch.

Potter shot Ayr a look of contempt before flying down to land on the ground. Lisa Stanton, the Slytherin Keeper and Captain, flew down to the ground to meet with Madam Hooch and Potter. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but their arms were waving, and Potter looked furious. Madam Hooch pointed up at Ayr, and she had a sinking feeling in her stomach. Potter threw his broom down when Madam Hooch turned to the stands, making a few hand motions.

"It seems," The announcer began sullenly, "That Gryffindor has been disqualified for dirty game tactics. Slytherin wins by default."

There were roars of rage coming down from the stands, and Ayr landed her broom with a heavy heart. Jessiey flew down next to her, glaring. She got off of her broom, pulling Ayr harshly by the arm until they were in the Gryffindor locker room.

"You have got some serious explaining to do, Trikk," She hissed.

"You just threw the game!" Potter roared as he stormed in.

"He pissed me off!" Ayr shouted in defense.

"It's Malfoy! What did you _expect_ him to do?" Potter shouted, making mock flirty eyes at her. "Make your knees weak and tell you he _loved_ you?"

"Shove off, Potter," Ayr hissed warningly.

"Are you upset because you knew it was a _lie_?" He hissed, marching towards her and pressing his face into hers. "Did you actually _think_ he _could_ love you, Trikk?"

Sirius pushed into the locker room, making his way through the small crowd surrounding Potter and Ayr. He pulled Potter away from Ayr, and the seething Gryffindor looked at Sirius incredulously. Sirius hissed something into Potter's ear, and the tension in the boy's shoulders dropped immediately. His eyes locked with Ayr's, and the color drained from his face.

"Yes," He murmured, looking at her curiously. "Wright's got the right idea – you have some explaining to do."

Her eyes bore into the side of Sirius' head, and he frowned at her – _What do you _want_ me to say?_ Ayr sighed, and Potter cleared the other three team members out of the locker room. Ayr sat, looking up into the expectant faces of her friends. She began at the beginning, telling them about the night 'Malfoy' had harassed her, and ending at the previous night. The only thing she left out was the kiss in the library. Jessiey was shocked speechless at the idea that Sirius and Potter had been let in on secrets she hadn't.

"So, what now?" She sighed, letting the anger melt off of her shoulders.

"I don't know," Ayr answered honestly. "But this has to stay a secret."

Jessiey and Potter nodded. Ayr groaned, wondering what she was going to do.

"Jessiey, I'm serious," Ayr said darkly. "Don't tell a soul – not Sarah, Isis, Lily – no one."

"Or what?" Jessiey smirked, tapping Ayr's shoulder playfully. "You'll go all _evil_ on me?"

Ayr stared blankly after Jessiey's joke. As Sirius and Potter laughed, Ayr's shoulders lost their tension. She laughed with them, softly at first, and then they all laughed a bit harder. Perhaps it was the absurdity of the situation, or the simple fact that the friends needed to laugh. Ayr smiled at her friends, and wondered if things might not be so bad, afterall.


	12. Wicked

**Chapter Twelve  
**_(Wicked)_

He was growing tired of the Slytherins crowed around him. More than that, Malfoy was tired of the games.

There was a dull ache in his sinuses, an echo of the second broken nose he had ever had. Funny, he thought, that they both occurred because of Trikk, in some way or another. People pushed into his personal space, asking if he was alright, and was there anything they could get him? The only thing he wanted at the moment was a strong grip on Trikk's neck, and a cool quiet room where he could get some sleep.

"Out, the lot of you!"

Madam Pomfrey came up to Lucius' cot, shooing off the Slytherins with her hands. They left reluctantly, groaning, but still they left. A sigh of relief parted his lips, and he spared a quick, grateful glance at the healer. She seemed taken aback, but collected herself by the time she handed him the Calming Draught.

"You look as if you haven't slept in days, Mister Malfoy."

Her assumption had been more correct than he let on. If he wasn't busy keeping tabs on Trikk for the Dark Lord, he was lying in his dorm and staring at the ceiling. He often berated himself for having gotten attached to his target – weren't there American movies about the problems and complications that caused? Then, Lucius thought with a scowl, he went and told her he _loved_ her.

_You nutter_, he cursed at himself.

He let out a soft groan, and let Madam Pomfrey believe it was from the remnants of pain. He took the draught gratefully, swallowing it and handing the cap back within two seconds. He watched as Madam Pomfrey placed screens around his bed, and then he was left alone in his corner of the Hospital Wing.

The ceiling was beginning to take shapes; his mind projected images on the blank canvas. He watched his seventeenth birthday, which had been celebrated by his receiving of the Dark Mark. That was also the day that the Dark Lord himself came to tell Lucius of his task. See, Voldemort had begun, he had a daughter in Hogwarts. He knew only her name, and nothing more. Lucius' task was to keep his eye on her, lure her in, make her trust him. Then Lucius was to take Ayr out of the castle, into an area the Dark Lord was able to reach.

His plan to bet Ayr into a date had failed; Lucius had underestimated the will of determined Gryffindors. He changed his tactics, trying the old fashioned way to woo her. He would get that date in Hogsmeade one way or the other. He decided he had to find yet another tactic when her presence made him want to smile, and the scent of her hair took away his breath.

It had been too convenient when he overheard Trikk and Black talking about their meeting on the full moon. He had known for three years about the Marauders' midnight escapades, and the reason behind them. He had often used the information to blackmail Lupin into doing a homework assignment, or Black into simply shutting up. He hadn't known where they went, however – he just knew it was somewhere off of school grounds.

And so he had followed them. Ayr had almost seen him; but his dark cloak had hidden him easily in the shadows. Giving up their position wasn't hard for Lucius; he was confident that the Dark Lord wouldn't hurt his only heir. Potter and friends, possibly, but that left no remorse in Lucius' gut, either. He thought he had had it figure out by then – Voldemort would meet his daughter, and have no objection to closer tabs being kept on her, and Ayr would never know that Lucius had been the one feeding the Dark Lord the information.

He knew she would have figured it out eventually, but he was planning on having enough time to come up with a viable excuse. When the Dark Lord had told Lucius that he was not only to meet him at the Shrieking Shack, but to stand by his side, Lucius' heart had turned to lead. All delusions about having a future with Ayr Trikk had been shattered.

"Stupid," He hissed at himself, his disgust echoing off the walls.

It was when she saw her tears that he pitied her, but it was when she defied Voldemort in the end that Lucius knew he loved her. The strong-willed, bull-headed Gryffindor had come through, defying her destiny even as she faced it. She was braver than he, that Lucius knew for a fact. He didn't have the strength to stand up to the Dark Lord; he feared for his family's life, his future family's life, and more importantly, his own life.

"You're weak," He told himself.

The look of betrayal in Ayr Trikk's eyes when he stepped up to join the Dark Lord haunted him. He knew then there was no hope for them, and he had scolded himself for the pain he felt at the realization. It hadn't stopped there; as the Dark Lord and Lucius left the Shrieking Shack's grounds, he had turned to Lucius with a smile.

"The seed is planted," He had mused, glancing towards the run-down house. "You're next task, Lucius Malfoy, is to ensure that the seed grows."

When he had asked how, the Dark Lord had smiled cryptically, and replied that he must make Ayr's anger uncontrollable. Push her to the brink, so to say. Lucius' mind had reeled at the thought of pushing Ayr further away. He didn't want to, but he knew that it was for the best – for the both of them.

"You were enemies before," He reminded himself. "You'll be enemies again."

He looked towards the door was it opened. A frightened looking house elf looked around the room, and when her bulbous eyes fell on him, she scurried over to him, handing him a piece of parchment. It had been rolled up, and tied with a red ribbon. Lucius' eyes widened when he realized it was the red ribbon he had tied around the black rose for Ayr.

"Massa Malfoy," The house elf squeaked. "Twinky has been sent by Missus Trikk to give this to you."

He took the letter, and his heart skipped a beat. He looked down at the house elf, and spared her a smile.

"Thank you, Twinky."

The house elf hurried out of the room, presumably back to kitchen – or wherever it was that Dumbledore let them sleep. He stared at the parchment in his hand, scowling down at it for a moment before he unrolled it. He braced himself for horrid words – perhaps she had gone so far as to make this a Howler.

_There's no place for love in your life_, He reminded himself with a sneer. _Your allegiance lies with the Dark Lord._

He unrolled the scroll, and his heart stopped beating. He stared at the words on the parchment for a few more minutes before rolling it up, retying it, and setting it on his nightstand. The Calming Draught was finally taking effect, and he felt his body warm and relax, and his eyelids grew heavier.

That night, Lucius Malfoy fell asleep with a smile on his face.

* * *

Ayr looked around the Room of Requirements with smug satisfaction. She looked at the clock on the wall, and controlled her breathing when she noticed the time.

After the thrown Quidditch match the previous night, Jessiey had held her back in the locker room after Potter and Sirius had already left for the castle. They had argued in hushed tones; Jessiey wanted her to tell the others, and Ayr had told her there was no reason to. It was only when Jessiey pointed out that the Dark Lord could cause something, indirectly, while she was in the castle that Ayr had conceded with a sigh. Ayr had then argued that she needed to talk to the Marauders, since their secret was mingled with hers. Jessiey had waved her hand, telling her that she had already gotten their permission, and they were waiting for them in the Gryffindor common room.

The conversation hadn't been a necessarily pleasant one; Ayr had begun at the beginning, as she had with Potter and Jessiey. The girls were shocked at the news that Malfoy had tried to molest her, and then angry when Ayr had revealed that it wasn't Malfoy, but Daniel Parkinson. All eyes turned to Jessiey, who had been paired with the perverted Slytherin for the Amortentia assignment, and she had shrugged softly, reassuring them that nothing had happened; Malfoy had been around when Ayr hadn't, and this news seemed to shock the girls even more.

Courtney had begun to cry softly when Ayr told them the part about going to the Shrieking Shack; she hadn't shied away from Remus, but had looked rather relieved when she realized why he avoided her every so often. Remus and Peter had looked rather surprised when Ayr had filled them in on what had happened while they were unconscious.

Her friends had looked sick, but Isis had attempted to relieve the tension by telling Ayr she had always known something was odd about her. Sarah was silent, and Courtney had been too busy fussing over Remus to really interact in the following conversation. Lily had taken the logical approach – she told Ayr she needed to find out what Voldemort had done to her, and what it meant. Ayr had reluctantly agreed, knowing there was only two people that could help her, one of which she hated slightly less than the other.

_I need to see you_, she had scribbled on a piece of parchment. _Please me in the Room of Requirements – you'll know how to open it._

She found a house elf tending the fire in the kitchen, and had asked her to give the note to Malfoy. Now, Ayr looked around the Room of Requirements, which she had opened by wishing she had a nice, quiet place to talk to Malfoy undisturbed. The door had appeared, and she had walked into a dimly lit sitting parlor, done with neutral, warm colors.

The winged armchair hugged her body, but Ayr still stiffened when the door opened. She watched as Malfoy looked around in mild confusion, his eyes finally settling on her. He walked over to sit in the arm chair across from her, but she could see the tension hidden behind the arrogant gait.

"You came," She deadpanned, crossing her legs.

"Well, you simply _needed_ to see me," He smirked, tension gone in his arrogant sneer.

"I _need_," She hissed, her fingers aching from fisting them in her lap. "To know what my f – what Voldemort did to me."

"You dare speak his name?" There was no humor in his eyes when he said this.

"He's my _father_," She spat. "He's lucky I'm not running around calling him _daddy_ in front of his beloved… _followers_."

She looked at him pointedly, and Malfoy fought the urge to twitch under her gaze. He leaned back in his chair, looking her up and down, smirking in his Malfoy way.

"I don't know why you're bothered," He sneered. "You're the daughter of the greatest wizard in existence, and – let's face it, Trikk – you looked much better that way. More… _mature_."

She glared as his eyes raked her lithe body, settling with a smirk on her chest, where there was little more than a slight bulge in her shirt. She fought the urge to smack him, reminding herself that she needed him here, for the moment.

"Malfoy," She started, pushing the anger from her voice. "I need to know."

"What makes you think I know?"

The sneer on his face irked Ayr, and she could feel the beginnings of rage ebbing into her stomach. Her eyes were beginning to throb, so she closed them, trying to get a hold on her temper. He was just being Malfoy, she told herself, so why was he getting under her skin even more now?

"Because," She seethed, rubbing her temples. "He trusted _you_ with following me around. Or because it was dark magic, and I'm sure you've had your own experience with _that_."

Something akin to shock took hold of Malfoy's features momentarily, before his face melted into his usual sneer. Ayr smirked in satisfaction at his silence – it was nice to know that she could feed Malfoy's load of shit back to him.

"He gave birth to your darkness," He answered flatly. "It's your lineage – your _destiny_."

"How do I undo it?"

Malfoy let out a bark of cynical laughter, leaning forward in his seat. He placed his elbows on his knees, and touched his fingertips together in of him.

"Why would you want to?" He asked, and it sounded sincere. "I'd be honored to be the Dark Lord's only heir."

"I am nothing _like_ Voldemort," She hissed, and opened her eyes to stare at him. "Blood status is a useless judgment of power. Lily Evans is a muggle-born, and she rivals Snape in potions – _he_, by the way, is a _half-blood_."

Malfoy fixed her with a weary sneer.

"Do you believe that matters to the Dark Lord?" He scoffed. "You life has been a lie, Trikk – you are not this kind, wholesome person who befriends mud-bloods and blood traitors. You were born to be powerful and rule the new world by your father's side."

His words tumbled around in her head. Her entire life, she had detested being told who she should befriend, and the woman she should present herself to be. The only reason she was _friends_ with Sirius was because her mother wanted her to marry a pure blood. It was beginning to get under Ayr's skin, and she hissed out a slow, seething breath.

"I _am_," She stated coldly, "Whoever I _want_ to be."

"No," He shouted, and she jumped. "You _are_ Ayr Gabrielle Trikk, daughter of our Dark Lord, and you will accept your destiny, sooner or later, whether you _like_ it or _not_! He unleashed your darkness, Trikk, and when it comes out, you'll have no control over your actions."

Ayr leaned forward in her chair, and concentrated on the small fire crackling in the background. She had forgone the couch that sat in front of it, because she hadn't wanted to be any closer to Malfoy than necessary. With a bitter sigh, she closed her eyes, rubbed her temples and then stood.

"Nevermind," She spat, walking towards the door. "You've lied to me, betrayed me, and -" She turned with a cynical laugh "- I almost believed you were a decent human being! Why did I think that you would help me? You're nothing but a coward."

Something dark flashed in Malfoy's eyes, and he was in front of her before she could blink. He backed her up until her back hit the door, and he placed both hands by her head, glaring down at her. Her breath hitched in her throat at his suffocating nearness, but his audacity made the rage in her stomach boil.

"Move," She hissed, matching his glare with her own.

"Or what?" He sneered, leaning closer. "You'll sic _daddy_ on me?"

The implication that Ayr couldn't defend herself made her rage overflow. She felt it course through her veins, heating her blood until it pounded behind her eyes. She remembered the bludger incident from the day before, and Sirius' warning that her eyes were changing. She tried to get a handle on her anger before more than her eyes changed.

She couldn't do it; she was choking on her anger. Her mind was reeling – why was she letting Malfoy get to her? The answer wouldn't come, and she didn't necessarily need one. A warm feeling spread through her body, answering the rage and mingling with it. Her skin pulled tight as her limbs stretched, and she could feel her clothes tighten as her body filled out. They were all minor changes – she began panicking when her blonde hair darkened and grew.

_I can't control this_, she thought frantically. _It's the rage – it answers to anger!_

It was the last competent thought Ayr had before she locked eyes with Malfoy. He looked a bit surprised, but then the surprise melted into a smug satisfaction. Ayr felt her skin bristle, but she wasn't interested in hitting him. Malfoy was power and nobility; Malfoy was power, and she wanted to control it.

"Is this what you wanted?" Asked a voice that wasn't entirely hers.

"This is who you're supposed to be," He replied, his smirk arrogant and satisfied.

"Move," She repeated, but he didn't.

"You can't walk around the castle this way, Trikk." He rolled his eyes. "You don't exactly look normal. _Better_, but not normal."

"Who said anything about walking around the castle?" She asked with a raised eyebrow, placing a hand on his chest and pushing. "What I want is right in this room."

Malfoy walked backwards as she pushed him, looking amused and slightly conflicted. She knew she was power, and she knew he wouldn't reject her – not again. Ayr would have Malfoy, in one way or the other, or she would kill him. She smirked in amusement as she backed him up, not missing the irony in the situation. His heel caught the leg of the couch, and he landed on the ground with a wince and a thump. Ayr lowered herself next to him, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Malfoy's eyes watched her hips as she lifted them, swinging a leg over him so that she hovered over him on all fours. She ducked her head, claiming his mouth hungrily. She could taste his lust, but she was more interested in the hint of danger she detected when his teeth grazed her lip. She heard someone moan, and she thought it may have been her. Malfoy turned his head and looked up at her from the corner of his eyes.

"What are you doing, Trikk?"

He didn't sound angry; his voice was lower, huskier, and it made Ayr writhe over top of him. He watched her move with hungry eyes, and she laughed softly, pressing her mouth against his. She lowered her body so that she straddled his hips, and ground into him, drawing a feral moan from his throat.

"I'm owning you," She mumbled against his lips. "Is that a problem, Malfoy?"

"No."

She smirked behind their kiss; she hadn't planned on stopping, regardless of his answer. His hands reached up hesitantly, settling on her hips, pushing her down onto him. The pressure against her groin sent a shiver through her spine, the movement doing nothing to help the heat low in her stomach. Malfoy's hands slid under her shirt and up her back, his nails biting into her skin gently as he pulled his hands back down. She moaned against his mouth, wanting to crawl inside of him.

"Your shirt," She hissed when her hands touched the smooth planes of his stomach. "Take it off. Now."

Malfoy obliged, leaning up to pull his shirt over her his head. He flicked his wrist, and the bundle of cloth disappeared, lost in the room. His hands skimmed her stomach hungrily, and she lifted her arms and leaned forward, allowing him to remove her blouse, not bothering with the buttons. His hand snaked into her hair, crushing it against her head as he attacked her mouth.

She looked down at him while his free hand slipped behind her, and she felt the gentle fall of her breasts as he unclasped her bra. It disappeared with the other clothes, and she gasped when Malfoy leaned up, taking a nipple between her teeth and worrying at it. His other hand, now free, took her breast and crushed it against her body. There was an instant of pain before her pleasure receptors took over, and she moaned.

"I didn't know you were into rough, Trikk."

She smirked down at him before sinking her teeth into his shoulder. She ran the tip of her tongue along the indents, tasting the slightest bit of blood as Malfoy moaned around her nipple. The vibrations made her shiver, and she moved her hips, slipping her hands down to unclasp his pants. She lifted her hips, pushing them down as far as she could, making sure his briefs went with them, and then using her foot to push them the rest of the way. She let out a shuddering breath when she saw the length of him, and took him in her hand, enjoying his soft whimper.

Malfoy flipped her over, his fingers tickling her side as his hand trailed down to her hip. He bunched her skirt into his hand, pushing it up her stomach; his mouth trailed down her neck, nipping the flesh softly. She arched up into him, whimpering her need against his mouth when she claimed it with her own. She tensed when his fingers pushed her underwear to the crook of her thigh.

He slid a finger inside of her, moving it slowly as she clenched around it. He slid another, moving them in a "come hither" motion against her walls. She writhed under him, letting her lids fall over her eyes and a whimper escape her lips. He removed his fingers too soon for Ayr's liking, and she let out a groan of frustration.

"Patience is a virtue you obviously do not possess, Trikk."

Ayr made a mental not to hit him for being a wise-ass in their current situation; right now, all she wanted was to feel him inside of her, to hold him as hers as he claimed her and her body. She met his eyes, and almost gasped when she saw the hunger in them.

He thrust into her, and she did gasp at the momentary pain coursing through her pelvis. He pulled almost completely out of her before pushing back in again, slowly. She groaned as he hit her cervix, writhing uncontrollably underneath of him. His teeth grazed her earlobe, her neck, her shoulder, and finally her lower lip. She hissed as his teeth closed around the flesh, and pulled it from his grip before kissing him harshly.

Minutes later, one of Malfoy's hands disappeared between them, and Ayr let out a strangled cry as his thumb pressed against her clit. The waves of pleasure wracked her spine as Malfoy's pace quickened, and she felt an odd warmth grow from her gut. Before she knew what it was, it blind-sided her and drew a cry from her lips. Lucius swallowed it with his mouth, groaning with her when his release came.

He hovered above her, both of them breathing hard, and pressed his forehead against hers. He watched with amusement and slight concern as the red in her eyes faded to blue. The hair beneath her shimmered for a slight second, and then her normal blonde returned. Her eyes lowered and then widened, and Malfoy covered her mouth before she could scream.

"Don't," Malfoy hissed. "You wanted this."

She pushed him off of her, _accio_ing her clothes to her. She jerked into them, glaring at Malfoy with hatred.

"Wasn't it you who told me I had no control," She began, dangerously calm, "When I was _dark_?"

Malfoy stared on in silence, and this infuriated her more. She didn't give him the chance to answer; she needed to leave before the tears welling up in her eyes spilled. She brushed past him and jerked the door open, storming down the corridor and away from Malfoy.

He had lied to her, betrayed her, and used her trust in him to turn her over to Voldemort. She seethed, her fists clenching in anger as she stormed towards the Gryffindor common room. He had lied, betrayed, and had taken advantage of her when she was her most vulnerable.

As the tears finally fell, Ayr knew only one thing: she could stop trying to hate Malfoy – he had made that decision very easy.


	13. Unbreak This Heart

**Chapter Thirteen  
**_(Un-break This Heart)_

March came to Hogwarts, bringing with it the promise of rain and warming weather. Ayr watched the rain fall from the window in the Gryffindor common room, curled into a comfortable arm chair. It was the same spot she'd been spending most of her time lately; her classes and Quidditch were the only relief from the same view.

She had spent the first few nights after the incident with Malfoy crying, mourning to love she should have never had. Then she had gotten angry; she was thankful for her friends most during this time, because without them, Ayr would have gone mad with darkness. After a month of anger, she had grown numb. She knew she had been naïve for believing Malfoy had changed, and even more so to believe he loved her.

Her friends had stuck by her side through it all; they had conjured tissues when she cried, held pillows when she had needed something to hit, and had forced her into a somewhat regular schedule of sleeping, waking, and functioning. She performed the roles as expected, and went through the motions without complaint. Eventually her friends had stopped worrying that she would throw herself off of the North Tower, and began treating her normally again.

With one exception, naturally.

The portrait swung open, and Ayr turned her head at the sound of approaching footsteps. Isis hesitated just a beat when Ayr turned her vacant eye on her childhood friend, but then gathered her nerve and marched towards the sitting girl.

"It's getting a bit ridiculous, don't you think?"

Ayr's eyebrow rose despite her sour mood. Isis was shifting from foot to foot, as if she wasn't sure of herself. Ayr admitted that she had been a difficult person to read lately, and even more difficult to handle. She turned in her chair to fully face Isis, prompting her with another wuirk of her eyebrow to continue.

"It's been just under two months, Ayr," Isis sighed, her face quickly forming a scowl when she decided it added to the intended effect. "You've done nothing but sit at this window from the time classes end until you go to sleep."

"That's not true," Ayr replied softly. "I play Quidditch."

"Yes, but it doesn't make you _smile_ anymore, Ayr," Isis sighed; she had apparently decided to drop the tough love act, and sat in the chair across from Ayr. "_Nothing_ makes you smile anymore. You _smile_, but it's only because you feel like you _should_. You just sit here and… and mope!"

Ayr felt the corners of her mouth pull down into a frown, and she leaned back in the chair, placing her feet on the ground and crossing her arms. She fixed Isis with a look – _I know you're not finished_. Isis sighed again and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"Granted, we don't understand why you got attached to him in the first place," She admitted, locking eyes with Ayr. "But Ayr – that person you loved, whoever he was, he _wasn't_ Malfoy. He was a superficial carbon copy. He's a foul git, and it's time you moved on, don't you think?"

"Isis…" Ayr sighed and looked out the window. "He lied to me, and he -"

"Betrayed you, and took advantage of you," Isis finished, mocking Ayr's dead tone. "We know – you've used that excuse more times than I care to remember. And it was a downright awful thing for him to do. Sirius and Potter already gave Malfoy his - this angst you have about him isn't hurting anyone but _you_."

Ayr felt a smile tug at her mouth at the memory Isis' words dredged up. After finally pulling the news of the incident out of Ayr, Sirius and Potter had stormed from the common room, their friends all following them. They had found the Slytherin in the Great Hall, laughing with Crabbe, Goyle, and Snape over something they hadn't paused to hear. Potter had jerked Malfoy off of the table he was sitting on, and Sirius pulled back his arm, knocking the air out of Malfoy's lungs with a swift punch to his gut. Potter and Sirius smirked when he fell, telling him that if so much as _thought_ about Ayr, they'd hunt him down like the flea-infested dog he was. Sirius had stomped on his wrist, and Ayr had heard them gloating about Malfoy being in the infirmary – _again_ – with a broken wrist.

"Now that's a _real_ smile," Isis exclaimed, cutting into the pleasant memory of Malfoy's pain-inflicted face. "Not a _great_ one, but a real smile all the same."

"You know me too well," Ayr responded, her smile widening.

"I've known you forever," She said matter-of-factly. "I'm your best friend – it's my job to tell you when your time to gripe about something has expired. Now, get upstairs and put on something decent. And take a shower."

Ayr covertly sniffed herself, and frowned when she realized she smelled perfectly fine. She watched Isis stand up, and shot her a quizzical look.

"Where are you taking me?" She asked.

"Today is the Hogsmeade trip," Isis answered impatiently. "So get up and get dressed. I'll not have you spend _another_ Saturday at this window."

"I already told you I wasn't going," Ayr insisted, content to stay put.

"I don't care what you _said_," Isis argued, grabbing Ayr's arm and pulling her out of the chair. "You're going. You don't have to like it, but you're going."

Ayr was grumbling under her breath as Isis dragged her up the stairs and into the girls' dorm room, but she was smiling softly at her friend's concern. Isis shooed her into the bathroom, telling her that an outfit would be chosen for her by the time her shower was over with. Keeping up the pretense of griping, Ayr started the shower, stripped, and then stepped into the warm flow of water.

After she was through, she shut off the water and wrapped a towel around her body and one around her hair, stepping into the dorm. Sure enough, there was an outfit lying neatly on her bed, along with a coin purse full of Ayr's galleons. She looked over the outfit with smug satisfaction. Isis _did_ know her too well; she had chosen a soft, black long-sleeved shirt with a V-neck, and a loose, white cotton skirt. Black tights and boots completed the outfit; Ayr smiled as she looked over one of her favorite ensembles, drying off quickly and slipping into the outfit.

She toweled her hair dry and ran her fingers through it, deciding to let it dry naturally and wavy. She quickly put her make-up on, feeling a bit out of place as it had been so long since she had really gotten dressed up for anything. She looked herself over in the mirror, and gave herself a nod of approval and encouragement. Picking up her coin purse and her umbrella, she left the dorm room and walked down the stairs.

Someone whistled appreciatively, and Ayr watched as Jessiey slapped Sirius' arm. He looked at her with a smile, but anyone could detect the adoration in his eyes. Ayr wondered just how much she had been oblivious to in the past few weeks, and smiled as she watched them clasp hands. The sight of a happy pair didn't bring pain into Ayr's heart, as she had expected it to, but made her smile genuinely. Her face was beginning to hurt from using muscles she hadn't in what seemed like ages.

"Have you seen our friend, Ayr Trikk?" Lily asked with a wide grin. "She normally mopes around the common room, slumming in sweatpants or pajamas?"

With a soft smile, Ayr stepped down from the last stair, and twirled in front of them. Her friends were smiling, and Ayr felt her heart lift. Perhaps trekking to Hogsmeade in the rain wouldn't be such a chore, after all. Ayr nodded at her optimism, and left with her friends as they exited the common room.

Other students joined their group as they made their way down the Grand Staircase, chattering excitedly about the upcoming trip to the picturesque village. There was talk of shopping for Easter gifts for friends and family, and Ayr brightened considerably at the idea of shopping for _anything_.

The trip to Hogsmeade took twenty minutes by foot, but the sound of rain humming on Ayr's umbrella soothed her nerves. It had been a while since she had been around this many people; she wasn't in on the latest gossip, though the girls had tried adamantly to get her involved in the past months. Each time, though, she had asked if there was talk about her, and when they replied no, she had tuned them out.

Courtney and Remus bid adieu to their friends after promising to meet them at The Three Broomsticks. They walked off hand in hand to do their own shopping – or so they had said, anyway. Ayr noticed with a soft giggle that they were heading to Madam Puddifoot's, but spared them embarrassment by staying quiet. Jessiey and Sirius split off as well, heading to Honeydukes before starting their shopping. Lily took Sarah into Gladrags Wizardwear, hoping to ditch Potter before he realized where they had gone.

Isis and Ayr watched, giggling, as he turned back to face their group, frowning when he saw that there were only four of them left. With a scowl and a sigh, he made his way towards Zonko's, a lost-looking Peter Pettigrew scurrying after him. Isis shook her head and turned to Ayr with a smile.

"Where should we stop first?" She asked with an excited glitter in her eyes.

Ayr wracked her brain, realizing with a frown that she hadn't made a list of gifts to buy. She knew her friends well enough, however, that she could pick out a gift as she saw it. With mutual agreement, the two headed into Scrivenshaft's, since it was one of the better shops their friends hadn't already entered.

They browsed for a few minutes until Ayr's eyes fell on a red leather-bound journal. It closed with a ribbon, which was attached to each cover. When Ayr tried untying it, a very girlish voice demanded that she give the password. She noticed that there was a list of instructions on how to _set_ a password on the back, and she picked up the journal. She had Lily's present; now for the rest of her friends.

"Find something?"

She turned and showed the journal to Isis, who was carrying a stationary set for Courtney. Admiring the gifts for their friends, the two Gryffindors made their way up to the counter and paid for their purchases. Isis prodded Ayr's shoulder after paying to the stationary and pointed out the window.

"There goes Jess and Sirius – we can head to Honeydukes next."

"Brilliant," Ayr smiled, her mind already reeling on what to buy for Courtney. "Let's go."

The two girls collected their purchases, and left the stationary shop. They crossed the street and giggled over their presents, keeping them under Ayr's umbrella so they didn't get wet. They stepped into the sweets shop, glad to be warm and dry while Ayr shook her umbrella off outside, and closed it.

"Damn my sweet tooth to hell," Isis sighed as she looked around the shop. "I don't know where to start – or where to stop, for that matter."

"Go for it all," Ayr giggled, beginning to browse the aisles. "I'll catch up with you in a minute."

Isis nodded, already distracted, and headed down towards the Pumpkin Pasties. Ayr shook her head in amusement, and walked through the aisles of sweets piled upon sweets. She grabbed a basket available at the end of the aisle, and smiled when she found what she was looking for. She grabbed three cauldron cakes, planning on sticking the ends of other candies into them as a sort of basket. She went through the aisles, grabbing Chocolate and Licorice Wands, Sugar Quills, and blood-flavored lollipops as she went. It would be the perfect gift for Courtney, whose sweet tooth rivaled Isis'.

She saw Isis milling about by the Chocolate Cauldrons, and she tapped her friend on the shoulder. Isis turned with a guilty expression on her face, and Ayr saw that she was holding as many of the chocolate treats as she could. Ayr felt her eyebrow raise and Isis scowled.

"They're not for me," She insisted, placing them in a basket of her own. "They're for Sarah – these are her favorite!"

Ayr laughed, and together the girls headed towards the front counter. The witch behind the register rung them up and packed their cakes into boxes before placing them into bags. The girls wished the woman a good day, and Ayr opened her umbrella over the two of them as they stepped outside.

"Where to next?" Isis asked.

Ayr squinted through the rain, looking around for any sign of her friends. Courtney and Remus had a window seat in the tea shop, and their heads were ducked close together. Ayr noticed with amusement that Jessiey and Sirius had joined them at their table. She looked around for Lily and Sarah, and saw the red-head duck into Scrivenshaft's. Ayr sighed with relief, glad they had left the shop when they had. Potter skidded to a halt in front of her and looked around.

"Have you two seen Lily?" He asked hopefully.

"Don't you have anything better to do with your time than stalk her?" Ayr asked with an amused smile, and then jerked her head over her shoulder. "She just went into Honeydukes."

"A sweet lady in a sweets shop," Potter smiled, slipping past them. "How fortuitous."

Isis shot Ayr a look of disapproval, but couldn't keep the smile off of her face. They decided that since Gladrags had been abandoned by their friends, that was to be their next destination. They magically shrunk their packages, placing them all into one bag for easier transportation. Cutting through the rain, the girls backtracked and headed towards the clothing store. Ayr shook out her umbrella, leaving it by the door. She straightened and turned around, her heart leaping at the aisles and moving mannequins full of clothes.

"Merlin's beard," Isis whispered. "If I'm dreaming, don't wake me up."

The two girls pushed through the aisles, holding things up to each other and murmuring appreciatively. Ayr made a mental note to return here for herself later in the year, and set her mind on finding gifts for her friends. She still had Sarah, Jessiey and Isis to shop for; she already had her mind set on a box of gags from Zonko's for Sirius.

The girls weaved their way through the labyrinth of clothes until they came to accessories. They stopped to admire the scarves and belts, and eventually trailed over to the glass counter where the more valuable jewelry was showcased. Her eyes scanned the counter, and she smiled when she spotted a bracelet of angels wielding wands caught her eye; it would be perfect for Sarah.

While the attendant got the bracelet from the display case, Ayr scanned over the other items. Her heart stopped when she spotted a necklace on a thin golden chain. The pendant was made up of two ruby hearts, one stacked on top of the other. She tugged on Isis' sleeve and pointed.

"It's beautiful," Isis agreed, smiling in approval. "I'll remind you to come back for it when we're not shopping for _other_ people."

Ayr scowled before turning and thanking the attending wizard for the bracelet. She stood next to Isis, her eyes raking over the jewelry. Her throat constricted when she spotted a man's necklace. The thick pendant was decorated in gems that created a mingling, swirling yinyang. She noticed with a scowl that the colors making up the yinyang were red and green. The reserve of happiness began to shatter, and she shook herself of it with a quick thought.

_I'm going to be the bigger person_, she persuaded herself, denying to her subconscious that it was her excuse for still pining for Malfoy. _I'll show my father that I'm nothing like him and his followers._

She ignored Isis curious glance when she asked the attendant to hand her the necklace. She looked it over again, inspecting it closely once it was in her hand. She smiled and nodded, and the attendant put it in its box before handing it back to her. Isis shook her head, but said nothing, and looked down to browse the jewelry some more. While Isis was still looking, Ayr took the chance to glance around the shop. She did a double take when she spotted Isis' present.

"I'll meet you at the front counter," She said to Isis. "I'm going to go do some browsing while you're looking here."

Isis waved Ayr off impatiently, and Ayr laughed softly as she headed to the front of the store. When she stopped in front of the gloves, she smiled and trailed her fingertips over them. They were a soft red color, made with the down feathers of a phoenix. They had been charmed with _Impervius_ to make them waterproof. Ayr smiled with delight; Isis was going to love them. She made sure her friend wasn't looking, and hurried to the front counter, slipping the gloves into a bag from Scrivenshaft's.

"I have a pair of your phoenix down gloves in my bag," Ayr informed the witch behind the register, showing her the bag quickly. "I can't take them out – they're a gift for my friend; she's looking at jewelry, but she'll be up her any minute."

"I understand," The witch smiled, marking down the price of the gloves and then handing the bag back to Ayr. "She'll love them – wonderful choice!"

She rung Ayr up, and gave her the bag of jewelry in exchange for most of Ayr's remaining galleons. She noticed with a smile, though, that she still had plenty left for Jessiey and Sirius' gifts and a few butterbeers, even with the extra present in her bag. Isis met her at the front desk, a hint of guilt glittering in her eyes.

"I haven't quite decided on something for Jessiey or Lily yet," She smiled sheepishly. "You go on ahead to Zonko's to pick up Sirius' present – I'll meet you there."

Ayr nodded and waved to her friend. She picked up her umbrella and entered the rain yet again, walking up the street until she reached the joke shop. Her mind reeled; she hadn't the slightest idea what to buy for Jessiey. Of all of her friends, she was the hardest to shop for, since her interests changed often. She sighed, stepped out of the rain, and placed her umbrella in the stand by the door.

She looked around and found a box that belched when opened. It was perfect for holding the gags for Sirius. She made her way around the shop, filling the box with Dungbombs, Hiccup Sweets, Frog Spawn Soap, and Nose-Biting Teacups. She nodded in satisfaction and took her items to the wizard behind the register. She waited in line behind some third-year Hufflepuffs, glancing around the shop while she stood. Her eyes fell on a poster behind the counter, and she smiled victoriously. She place the box full of gags on the counter, and pointed behind the wizard to the poster.

"How much for a Weird Sisters poster?"

The wizard turned to look at where she was pointing. The members of the band were dancing around the poster, kicking and banging their heads in time to music that was inaudible. As often as Jessiey switched hobbies, the Weird Sisters had been a long-time favorite of the Gryffindor; it was perfect.

"Two galleons," The wizard replied, smiling as he turned to face Ayr again.

"I'll take it," She smiled in response, sliding the box towards the man. "And these as well, please."

She waited patiently while the transaction was completed, and waved to Isis when her friend walked in the shop. Isis held up the bags from Gladrags with a satisfied grin, and jogged over to meet Ayr by the register.

"My shopping is officially completed," She smiled. "Let's go celebrate at The Three Broomsticks."

Ayr thanked the wizard – presumably Zonko – and took the bag with her items. She shrunk the bag, along with the one from Gladrags, and stuck them inside of the bag from Scrivenshaft's before grabbing her umbrella and following Isis outside. Ayr noticed that the rain had lightened, and predicted that by the time they left for the school grounds, it would have stopped completely. The two girls gossiped about their presents for their friends, and pushed into The Three Broomsticks.

"Ayr! Isis!"

Both girls looked towards the sound of the shout, and saw Lily and Sarah at one of the larger tables, their own parcels by their feet. Isis and Ayr joined them at the table, grinning and immediately launching in to details about their gifts for Jessiey and Courtney. Ayr was surprised – and mildly amused – to learn that Lily had bought Potter a gift. After being interrogated for an answer, the blushing Lily replied that she thought it would help Potter give her a bit of breathing room if he thought he was making any progress.

"Room for four more?"

The four Gryffindors looked up as the two couples entered the pub, taking seats on either side of the table. Courtney held Remus' hand under the table, and Jessiey snuggled unabashedly into Sirius' side as his arm circled her shoulders. James and Peter rushed in, shaking the rain from their hair and taking off their cloaks.

"The gang's all here!"

They took the last two seats, hanging their cloaks on the back of their chairs. A young witch came to their table, all smiles and giggles. Ayr noticed with disgust that not even Remus could keep his eyes off of the barmaid.

"What can I get for the lively group?" She asked, giggling softly.

"Butterbeer!" They all replied, laughing.

She left to fix their drinks, and Ayr looked around the table with a smile. She was glad Isis had dragged her out of the common room; her friends' bright moods were contagious, infecting Ayr with her own high spirit. A male's laughter caught her eye, and she looked around her group only to realize that it hadn't come from their tables. Ayr's heart fell and her face paled as she turned her head slightly.

In the far corner, a group of Slytherins sat at a table, waiting for their drinks. Lucius Malfoy sat in the middle of the group, an annoyingly girlish Narcissa Black clinging to his side as he put his arm over her seat. Ayr felt her breathing quicken, but she couldn't take her eyes off of him. Her eyes narrowed when Narcissa laughed at something Malfoy whispered in her ear, and her fists were clenched in her lap.

"Ayr!" Lily hissed, moving so that she blocked her line of view. "Ignore the foul git – don't let him ruin your day."

"Yeah," Sarah agreed, nodding. "He's had enough control over you already – don't give him anymore."

Sarah's words penetrated Ayr's anger, and she could suddenly breathe again. Sarah was right; Malfoy had already had too much control over Ayr's life, whether it was her actions, thoughts, or emotions. She wouldn't allow him to have anymore – and that meant controlling her anger. She closed her eyes and took two deep breaths, only opening her eyes when they had stopped throbbing. Ayr was no longer borderline wicked, but the pain in her chest hadn't disappeared just yet.

_He was never yours to lose_, she hissed at herself, concentrating on her friend before the tears spilled. _He never felt that way._

The girls watched her cautiously for a bit, but when she didn't look like she was going to burst into her alter-ego, they turned back to the conversation. The barmaid came to the table with a tray of butterbeers, sliding each one down the table until all eight Gryffindors held a mug. They thanked her, and Isis cleared her throat.

"I'd like to propose a toast," She announced, lifting her mug. "To Gryffindor – where the loyal lie, and the liars die!"

"To loyalty!" They chorused.

"To friendship!" Added Sarah.

"To honesty!" Sirius called out, winking at Ayr.

"To no regrets!" Ayr threw out, making them all laugh.

"Cheers!"

The sound of clanking mugs filled the tavern, and they all downed half of their butterbeer before letting the mugs clank onto the table. As the warm liquid coursed through Ayr's body, she smiled again, all worries of Malfoy gone. Wishing she had a camera to capture this moment, Ayr joined into the conversation, allowing herself to laugh and smile without pain.


	14. Sleep

**Chapter Fourteen  
**_(Sleep)_

With Easter less than two weeks away, the students of Hogwarts grew anxious for the holiday festivities. Talk of the holiday feast were among most conversations; it rivaled even the Christmas feast. Any opportunity to buy and receive presents and dress in something other than the school uniforms warranted excitement.

The crisp Sunday morning was the first sunny day in weeks; the students were spread out on the grounds, reveling in the warmth of the long-missed sun. Lucius Malfoy relaxed against a tree, trying his hardest to pay attention to whatever it was Snape was rambling on about; an assignment for Potions, Lucius believed, but couldn't be sure. Crabbe and Goyle sat to his right, bickering about whose Bat-Bogie Hex was the most powerful.

Lucius rubbed the bridge of his nose and mentally groaned. He had been tired lately; the energy it took to avoid Trikk had worn him thin. The Dark Lord hadn't confronted Lucius about deflowering his daughter, but the Slytherin had no doubt that Voldemort was aware. He hadn't slept well in days, expecting the Dark Lord to take out revenge when he least expected. Lucius was growing paranoid, and it didn't sit well with him.

"…listening?"

Lucius turned and fixed his vacant gaze on Severus Snape, his eyebrow arching gracefully. Snape sighed and closed the book that was on his knees, setting it aside. He fixed Lucius with a scowl, and the blonde was slightly taken aback.

"Whatever… mood you've worked yourself into," The dark-haired Slytherin scolded, talking with his hands, "You've got to snap out of it."

"I beg your pardon?" Both of Lucius' eyebrows were now raised in amusement. "What makes you think I'm in a _mood_?"

"You have circles around your eyes from not sleeping," Snape hissed, "And you check over your shoulder at _least_ every five minutes. Your Potions grade is slipping, to say nothing of your Transfiguration grade. And this morning, you let a first year run into your back without so much as sneering at him!"

Lucius made a thoughtful noise and turned away from Snape, staring out over the grounds and towards the Black Lake. He watched apathetically as the students dipped their toes into the water, laughing as they jerked them out immediately. Their laughter carried over to him, and he almost scowled at their unabashed childishness, but he didn't have the energy to spare. Instead, he sighed wearily and leaned heavily against the tree.

"Ayr, knock it off! That's cold!"

Lucius stiffened in realization as the sun reflected off of blonde hair. Why hadn't he noticed before that the students were girls wearing Gryffindor colors? With a scowl that felt unusual on his recently blank face, he counted the girls present, and noticed that Potter and his followers were on the shores of the lake with the girls.

He hadn't spoken to Ayr since the night he had tempted her darkness. She went out of her way to avoid him, and in the classes they shared, her friends made an impenetrable wall around her, making even eye-contact impossible. At first, it had hurt him, and then annoyed him, and he had finally become numb to it. He had followed his father's advice, pursuing the affections of Narcissa Black, but he often found himself bored and annoyed in the girl's presence.

She was entirely too self-absorbed – that Lucius had seen within the first five minutes of talking with her. Her worries were of the superficial nature, her interests just the same. Her voice grated his nerves, and her airy attitude and shallow intelligence grated… everything else. Narcissa Black was nothing like the opinionated, brilliant, defiant Gryffindor he was watching now. Narcissa was the proper choice, the _correct_ choice. As Lucius looked at Ayr's friends, he realized that he was growing tired of the _correct_ thing to do.

The only time he had caught Ayr unguarded was in Hogsmeade while she was celebrating with her friends. He had spotted Trikk and Turbini walk into The Three Broomsticks, not even realizing that Evans and Everest had chosen a table with a perfect view of the Slytherins. Something had stirred in him when he noticed Ayr's gaze lingering on him with Narcissa; the angry flush that crossed her features gave him satisfaction he know he shouldn't have been feeling.

Lucius shook his head and stood, and it was only when Snape protested that Lucius realized the dark-haired Slytherin was still talking to him. He didn't attempt to appear sorry, but he did shrug a shoulder as if in explanation.

"I've got work to do," He mumbled in regret. "Don't wait up for me."

Lucius walked away from his followers, checking over his shoulder one last time. He was proud to admit that paranoia was the last thing on his mind this time, but chagrined to know that the Dark Lord wasn't. He let his eyes linger on the group of Gryffindors; Black was leaning close to Trikk's ear, and she had her hand on his arm. Lucius caught himself before he scowled, remembering that Ayr Trikk did not belong to him.

There was no hope for he and Ayr; she made that clear on countless occasions. If it wasn't the pain in her eyes the night he claimed her body, it was the satisfied smirk on her face when she heard the bones in his wrist snap under Black's foot. There was nothing in her that cared for him, of that he was sure; believing this to be true, Lucius entered the castle and prepared himself for decimating any bit of sanity he had left.

* * *

She had been leaving the Gryffindor common room more and more in the past two weeks. The adventure to Hogsmeade had done wonders for her morale, and Ayr was finding it easier to enjoy the things that had brought a smile to her face before. Because of this, when Lily had suggested spending the day by the lake, Ayr had readily agreed. She didn't even mind the bickering that followed when Potter insisted on accompanying them out of the castle.

Isis had opted to stay inside; the Potions assignment had run her ragged. Her excuse had been that keeping Ayr busy took time away from the seven-foot essay that was due the following day. After Isis had insisted that her friends go out to enjoy the day, they left her at the library with reluctant waves and wishes of good luck.

The sun had made them squint when they first walked onto the grounds, but that didn't slow the nine Gryffindors down as they made a beeline for the shores of the Black Lake. The water, they knew, was still much too cold to swim in, but the sun's warmth on the grass by the lake had been too much for the students to pass up.

Ayr had her arm linked with Sarah, leading the group along the shoreline. Sirius had his arm around Jessiey, and Remus was holding Courtney's hand, and they all laughed loudly at something Peter had said or done – Ayr wasn't really paying attention. She was watching the way the sun glittered on the glassy surface of the lake, smiling as if it were the first time she had seen the sight.

"You seem distracted."

Sarah's voice was close to her ear, and Ayr turned with a smile to look at her friend and shake her head.

"I'm simply enjoying the lack of rain while we have the chance," She replied. "It's really too bad that Isis had to miss out on this."

"Well, you know how she is," Sarah sighed and shook her head. "All work and no play make Isis a killjoy."

Ayr laughed, and it felt good. She felt free and alive for the first time in too long, and she was enjoying it immensely. She slipped off her shoes and socks, reveling in the way the grass felt under her feet. She dipped her toes into the water, and pulled them out with a squeal when the tiny needles shot through her skin. Sarah giggled, and Jessiey shot her an odd look before turning towards Lily and Potter, who were bickering again.

"It's not all about speed," Lily hissed, smacking the back of one hand against the palm of the other. "You can be the fastest Seeker out there, but if you lack tactic, you may as well be a Beater!"

"Hey!" Sirius shouted indignantly, his chest puffing up; Jessiey slapped his arm and rolled her eyes.

"No offense," Lily smiled to Sirius before turning to Potter again. "You've got to remember that if you're leading, the other team's Seeker is going to be following you! If they gain on you, you've led them right to the snitch!"

"It wouldn't come to that," Potter argued, a cocky grin on his face, "Because no one _will_ gain on me."

"You're not invincible, Potter," Lily scoffed. "I'm waiting for the day something distracts you and you lose your advantage – I won't mind saying 'I told you so'."

"Something distracts me every day," He smirked, slinging and arm over Lily's shoulders. "And I have _yet_ to let someone get the best of me."

"You disgust me," Lily snorted, pushing his arm off.

"Would you two give it a rest?"

As the two bickering Gryffindors looked towards Ayr to argue, she kicked water at them. Lily shrieked in outrage, but the others were clutching their sides with laughter.

"Ayr, knock it off! That's cold!"

A familiar and unwelcome sensation settled on Ayr's shoulders. She turned, out of practice with ignoring the feeling of being watched, and caught Malfoy's smoldering stare. Her heart jumped to her throat, and she wanted to scowl back at him. She couldn't move her facial muscles the right way, however – in fact, she couldn't move at all.

"What's wrong with Trikk?" Potter asked the girls.

She could only turn when Sirius came to stand beside her. She lifted her chin to watch as his face shifted from confusion to blistering protection. He caught Potter's eye, jerked his head towards Malfoy, and then drew his fingers across his throat. He began marching towards Malfoy, who had gotten up to move into the castle, and Ayr's arm shot out to grab his.

"Sirius, don't," She pleaded softly.

"He's _staring_ at you," He argued. "Hasn't the maggot caused enough damage?"

"Yes, and you've caused yours, too – like a broken rib and wrist," She hissed pointedly, looking after Malfoy. "Look – he's leaving anyway."

Sirius followed the Slytherin with his eyes, obviously anxious that Malfoy was even still in his field of vision. He watched until Malfoy entered the castle, and then turned to Ayr with an odd look that she couldn't decipher.

"Don't look so love struck," He mumbled to her, a small smile lifting his lips when she hit his arm.

"Sod off, Black," She growled.

* * *

"She isn't in the common room?"

Ayr frowned at Lily's question; she had just come from the Gryffindor Tower, and Isis hadn't been there. She hadn't been in the library, nor was she in the potions classroom. They hadn't begun to worry until she had missed dinner – Isis _never_ missed meals. It was now seven minutes after curfew, and Ayr was chewing on her lip nervously.

"This isn't like her," She mused quietly. "_No one_'s seen her?"

Sarah, Jessiey, and Lily shook their heads and then turned as Remus and Courtney joined them in the Great Hall. Ayr could tell by the look on their faces that Isis hadn't been in any of the places they had checked either. They shook their heads no, and Ayr almost growled aloud.

"Alright," She sighed, rubbing a hand through her hair. "You guys head back to the common room – I'll get word out to the Prefects to notify me if they see her on their rounds."

The five Gryffindors nodded, and Ayr heard Jessiey she would tell Sirius and James the plan. Ayr accepted Lily's hug, but her reassuring words did little to help her flipping stomach. Watching her friends leave, Ayr closed her eyes and rubbed her temples before pulling parchment out of her shoulder bag and scribbling a quick note to the Prefects. She made copies, and sent the paper cranes to find their intended targets.

An idea popped into her head, and she hurried out of the hall as a sliver of hope pierced her heart. She left her shoulder bag on the Gryffindor table, rushing out into the corridor and towards the lavatory. She pushed the door open, knowing this was the only bathroom Isis would use besides the one in the Gryffindor Tower. She checked under the stalls, pushing them open when she didn't see any feet. Tears stung her eyes when her last idea crumbled.

She swiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, angry at herself for crying. Isis was fine – perhaps she was already in bed. Ayr knew she was lying to herself; her friend hadn't been in the Gryffindor Tower at all. Forcing herself to relax, Ayr mused about the size of the castle. It was a very good possibility that they had just passed Isis without realizing it.

She walked into the Great Hall, spotting her shoulder bag with relief. In her hurry, she hadn't realized she left it on the table. She crossed the room to the Gryffindor table, reaching for the bag and turning to exit the Great Hall; she had rounds to complete before retiring for the night. She stopped short when she noticed a small square of parchment flutter out of her bag. Curious, she leaned over to pick it up. Her eyes scanned the note, and she felt bile rise threateningly in her throat.

Bag and note both forgotten on the floor of the Great Hall, Ayr raced to the entrance hall, sliding easily out of the front doors and sprinting across the grounds. Looking around impatiently once she stopped in front of the Whomping Willow, Ayr finally found a sturdy branch. She picked it up, located the knob that Peter had pressed on the night of her adventure, and stabbed the branch into it. As soon as the branches stopped moving, she slid down into the tunnel, taking off once she regained her footing.

The roots dug into her skin, making small tears in the flesh as she ran. The tunnel wouldn't end nearly soon enough for Ayr; tears of anger and fear washed her face as she ran. Her chest was on fire, her lungs threatening to collapse if she pushed herself much further. Ayr nearly fell over the earthen steps marking the end of the tunnel, and she took them all in one great bound. She ignored the rotting floorboards, cursing when her foot fell through, jerking her breath from her lungs.

Ayr shook her leg, determined not to scream when she saw the spider crawling on her leg. She swatted it off, picking her way as quickly as she could through the house. She finally found the stone steps, and took them two at a time, trying her hardest not to tumble head first into the basement of the Shrieking Shack.

"I'm glad to see you've joined us, daughter."

Ayr couldn't speak; her throat was tight, her lungs were burning, and her stomach was made of lead. She couldn't look at him, either; the satisfied smirk on his deformed face made her want to scream and run in the opposite direction as fast as she could. Instead, she let her eyes drift to the wall behind Voldemort, and she'd be damned if she killed him right there.

"You're wicked."

Her voice was unnaturally calm and quiet as she took in Isis' body hanging to the wall by iron rings and ropes. She smiled at Ayr to let her know she was okay, but Ayr had known Isis long enough to recognize the fear in her friend's eye. She looked unscathed – a bit tired and frightened, but unharmed all the same. Voldemort's laugh pulled Ayr's attention away from Isis and almost made her cringe.

"I'm aware of this fact," He smirked with confidence.

"Why?"

The answer to her question must have been obvious to the Dark Lord, who laughed wickedly. Shaking his head as if in pity, Voldemort fixed his eyes on his daughter and smiled. Ayr felt the beginnings of rage tickle her stomach. There was a soft pulsing behind her eyes, and she wondered for a moment if she was beginning her change, or if she was getting a migraine. The likely answer, she decided with a scowl, was both.

"Consider it collateral," He replied, his eyebrow quirking. "Join by my side, and she goes free. Fail or refuse, and I kill her."

"Don't listen to him, Ayr!"

Voldemort turned with rage in his eyes to face Isis. He hissed a curse, and Ayr knew it was something along the lines of 'mud blood'. Isis' eyes were hard and defiant, and she knew in that moment why her friend had been sorted into Gryffindor. With an impatient scowl, the Dark Lord turned to face Ayr again.

"Make your choice, Ayr Trikk."

Ayr's eyes were pulsing violently when she flicked them to glance at Isis, who was shaking her head furiously. Her mouth was moving, but Ayr could only make out the words _not_, _Malfoy_, and _Parkinson._ Voldemort's smirk slipped when he followed Ayr's gaze, and he shouted in outrage when he saw that Isis was still defying him. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Isis, turning to glance at Ayr from the corner of his eyes.

"Let me make the choice easy for you, daughter."

The word '_Crucio_' echoed in Ayr's ears. Time seemed to slow as a cry of pain ripped from Isis' mouth, her eyes rolling back in her head as she writhed against the wall. The trobbing behin Ayr's eyes had grown to a steady hum, and it seemed that same hum traveled through her body, stretching her limbs. She didn't have to look to know how she appeared. A feral cry of rage tore out of Ayr's lungs, and she launched herself at Voldemort, knocking him flat.

Isis' body hung limply as Voldemort dropped his wand and the curse's concentration broke. Ayr had taken the Dark Lord by surprise, straddling his body as her thumbs pressed into his windpipe. His eyes were furious, but his smile was triumphant. With a snarl, Ayr took a hand and punched him until there was nothing left of his smile but a bloody mess. There was nothing but rage in him now, and if Ayr had been of sound mind, she would have pissed herself in fright. As it were, she was enjoying the feeling of his life drain away from her hands.

"Ayr, we found the note! Where are you? Ayr!"

She heard the thundering footsteps above her, but paid no mind as her friends and the Marauders poured into the basement. She noticed that they stopped short, shocked into silence, before shouting obscenities. Lily and Sarah rushed over to Isis, but Voldemort stopped them with a wave of his hand. The group of newcomers flew back into a wall, the air leaving their lungs as they made contact.

"_Enough!_" He hissed up at Ayr, holding out his hand and closing it around his wand as it flew to him. "Enough of these childish games!"

He jammed his wand into the soft flesh of her stomach, and sent her flying across the room with a thought. Her eyes widened when she hit the opposite wall, sliding down and trying to remember how to breathe. Her body ached, but she knew it would only be so much worse when normality returned. Not able to stand yet, she settled for glaring at Voldemort, hatred seeping from every pore.

"You've made your choice, you insolent brat," He hissed at her.

There was a heartbeat of silence, and then there was the green flash as Voldemort hissed the Killing Curse. The blood rushing in Ayr's ears drowned out the cries of outrage, anger, and pain from the Gryffindors behind her. She found her body didn't ache quite as much as she thought it did, and stood, walking slowly towards Voldemort. He watched her with curious amusement as she stood in front of him, looking at him blankly.

"Have you changed your mind, daughter?"

She answered him with a clenched fist to his jaw. She heard a sickening popping sound, and a cracking noise as she dislocated his jaw before he disapperated. She turned slowly, working numbly to remove Isis' body from its restraints. She rested the girl on the floor, slid her eyes shut, and then kneeled in front of her. As suddenly as she had found the apathy, it shattered, and a cry of pain tore itself from Ayr's lungs as her darkness vanished.

* * *

_You have a choice to make, daughter. The reward is immeasurable; the consequence is irreplaceable. You know where to find _us_. I expect you there no later than midnight, or I will have to make the choice for you._

Lucius had stared at the note he found in the Great Hall with disbelief. He hadn't done it. He hadn't lured Isis out of the castle at Voldemort's request. He knew this note – it had been in his pocket, waiting for Ayr to leave her bag unattended so he could place it where she would be sure to see it. He was supposed to, but he hadn't.

He had watched Isis in the library, contemplating the best approach, but had only focused on one thought. He couldn't do this to Ayr. He didn't have enough of his heart left to break another piece off at her pain. He had thrown the note into the garbage can and left, set on finding Ayr and falling on his knees before her. The Dark Lord could torture him. The Dark Lord could kill him. The Dark Lord _couldn't_ make him hurt Ayr anymore.

He hadn't found her. She had left the lake, and he didn't see her again until dinner. She had been looking around, preoccupied; he hadn't noticed the missing Gryffindor then, his eyes too focused on the worry lines creasing her face. She had disappeared as soon as she had finished eating, her friends following. Lucius had decided that he would find her that night during their after-hour rounds. Instead, he had found the note he had never given her.

His mind was reeling. He thought he had an idea of who had done it in his stead, but he was too concerned with finding Ayr and her band of vigilantes. His feet couldn't move fast enough as he threw himself under the branches of the Whomping Willow, risking being hit in the sake of time. He had heard the voices. He had heard the yelling. He had heard the Killing Curse. None of this had bothered nearly as much as the cry of grief that echoed through the house.

The scene before him as he entered the basement of the Shrieking Shack shocked him. Though he had heard most of the events as they happened, seeing it still took the breath from him. He couldn't see Ayr, but he _could_ see a curtain of dark, wavy hair as it spilled out on the floor from Isis' still head. He heard the soft sobbing of the girls, and noticed the boys staring in silence at their still friend.

"Merlin's beard…"

The soft exclamation left his mouth before he could stop it, and the Gryffindors turned slowly – stiffly – until they faced him. There seemed to be a flash of rage in all of their faces, but they seemed too broken to do much with it. Instead, they stared as he moved closer and turned when they knew he wasn't going to kill them. He saw Ayr then, and whatever was left of his heart fell to his feet as it shattered.

She was splayed on top of Isis, her blonde hair spread out as if she had left it where it landed. Her eyes were red – from crying, not from being dark – and he could see the tears falling silently as she stared at him. Her face was blank, and the lack of emotion made Lucius' heart hurt.

"Leave," She whispered.

Lucius stared down at her silently, rooted to the spot. He didn't think he could leave her now if he wanted to, and he certainly didn't want to. He was vaguely aware of her repeating the command, and then she was on her feet, her fists beating down on him as she shouted her anger and rage out at him. He didn't attempt to stop her, or correct her. There would be time later for explaining things; now was the time for silence.

Finally, she stopped and collapsed into his arms, which circled slowly around her. He could feel the sobs that wracked her body, and he was unsure for the first time in his life of what to say. He decided quickly that silence was the best answer, and stood in silence. He looked over Ayr's head to the other Gryffindors, who had grown numb by this point.

"We have to take her back to the castle," Lily Evans whispered, her throat soar and tight.

Black looked his way, and there was nothing but remorse, and a twisted sense of gratitude as the two men locked eyes. He nodded stiffly, and Lucius felt a sense of wonder break through his aching. The Slytherin watched silently as Sarah Everest and Jessiey Wright lifted their wands with shaking hands. There was a soft whisper, and Isis Turbini's body lifted from the ground, moving ahead of them as they left the basement.

Black waved his friends forward and moved slowly to where Lucius stood with Ayr. With his eyes trained on Lucius', he leaned down and murmured softly against Ayr's hair, placing a hand softly on her back.

"We've got to go, Ayr," He whispered, and she shook her head. "We have to go back now, Ayr."

"I want to talk to Malfoy."

Her voice was quiet and unsure, the tears cloying as she spoke around them. Black stiffened slightly, and then asked if Ayr wanted him to stay. She shook her head no, and he then asked if he should wait for her outside, in the tunnel. She slowly turned her head and stared at him, and Black finally conceded with a tired sigh. He looked at Lucius then, no sign of hatred for the first time.

"If she gets hurt on your watch…"

Black's words almost made Lucius shiver; it wasn't the threat, but the empty tone in which it was delivered. Black let the threat trail off when Ayr tried to stifle a sob and failed, opting to just nod and leave the room. They were alone, and Lucius scooped Ayr into his arms, sitting against a wall and holding her in his lap as if she were a child. She hid her face in his shoulder, her body shaking as the last of her tears gave way to apathy.

"Ayr… I didn't… I'm so-"

"Don't," She mumbled, her voice muffled. "Lucius, I'm so tired. Being his daughter is exhausting. Watching my best friend die because of me is exhausting. And hating you… is the most exhausting of all."

Her tears started all over again. He held her tightly to him, staring vacantly over the top of Ayr's head. She began working herself into hysteria, repeating how sorry she was, and that Isis had told her it wasn't him. He listened to the same two statements for ten minutes, and when they began slurring and then trailing off, he realized she had fallen asleep.

Moving slowly so as not to wake her, Lucius stood and carried her out of the basement. He stepped carefully into the tunnel, holding her tightly as he stepped over the uneven terrain. Looking down at her face, managing to look pained even in sleep, Lucius had the thought that he could drop her and she most likely wouldn't wake up. He frowned and moved through the tunnel, towards the castle, not looking forward to the return to Howarts.

Lucius Malfoy held Ayr Trikk in his arms for the first time in months, and he was too numb to care.


	15. Endlessly

**Chapter Fifteen  
**_(Eternally)_

_It was just a dream…_

Ayr had been repeating this to herself every morning for the past three days, and each morning slapped her with an unhealthy dose of reality. She would repeat it over and over before opening her eyes, only to be met with disappointment when she turned to look at Isis' empty bed. The first day, she had tried ten times, unsuccessfully, before finally collapsing into a fit of rage and tears.

This particular morning, however, she thought the wish out of habit more than expecting it to work. She opened her eyes and didn't need to look at the bed to her left to know she hadn't been dreaming. The simple, black mourning dress hanging on the back of the door reminded her that they had a funeral to attend today. The tears wouldn't come this morning; her reserve hadn't had the chance to be replenished from her sleepless night.

There was a soft knock at the door, and Jessiey walked in without waiting for permission. She crossed her arms and leaned heavily on the doorframe, Lily, Courtney and Sarah looking in from over her shoulder. The three girls looked as tired and tear-weary as Ayr felt. She sat up, leaning against her pillows and patting the bed beside her. Silently, the four girls crowded onto the bed, holding each other as the grieved.

Ayr's hometown of Bethnal Green was slowly waking outside, unaware of the day's events to be held in the town's cemetery. Her eyes watched vacantly as men kissed their wives good-bye and got into their cars to leave for the day. The roads were relatively empty, but Ayr knew that once the students from Gryffindor began arriving, there would be no relief from traffic. They were traveling from the school, but Ayr and her friends had been allowed the week to return home to mourn privately.

"Your mother's making breakfast," Lily revealed quietly, and Ayr nodded in acknowledgment. "We should go get ready."

Ayr sighed and slid out of bed, her feet feeling odd on the hardwood floor. She hadn't left her bed much recently except to shower and relieve herself. Her body felt light and shaky, and Ayr tried to remember the last time she ate as her head spun. Jessiey stepped beside her to link arms with her, and the five girls walked down into the kitchen.

James Potter, Remus, Sirius and Peter were helping Ayr's mother set the large table in the adjacent dining room. Ayr had a quiet moment of relief while she mused about how nine Gryffindors and a grown woman shared a modest house. Lily and Courtney shared the spare bedroom, and Sarah and Jessiey had opted to share Ayr's double-bed with her. The boys, Ayr assumed, had found their own sleeping arrangements in the living room.

"You're joining us for breakfast this morning?"

Ayr's eyes lifted from the table, where they had rested while she mused, to her mother. Clair Trikk was beautiful, having aged gracefully. There were worry lines on her face now; the return home hadn't necessarily been an enjoyable one. There was no easy way to face her mother and say, "By the way, your estranged husband is the Dark Lord, and he killed my best friend, so we're home for her funeral."

Ayr nodded, not trusting her voice. She hadn't said a word since the initial conversation with her mother, knowing her voice was weak from lack of use and crying. She sat down at the table, her stomach churning as her mother set down a large serving bowl of scrambled eggs. She knew she should eat, but the thought of food triggered her gag reflex.

"Thank you, boys," Her mother smiled softly as she sat down with the Gryffindors. "I appreciate the help."

"It's the least we can do, Ms. Trikk," James returned her gentle smile.

"Yeah, Mama Claire," Sirius added as he scooped some eggs onto his plate. "You're letting us stay in your house. We can at least set the table for you."

The next few minutes were silent as the students picked at their food. Ayr managed to eat a piece of sausage and half a hot bun before conceding to sip on her orange juice. Looking around the table, she knew her friends were having as hard of a time as she was stomaching food that morning.

"Is Lucius meeting us at the cemetery?" Lily asked softly, trying to pull a response from Ayr. "Or is he meeting us here?"

"Cemetery," Ayr answered, wincing at the hollow note in her voice.

The mention of the Slytherin brought back the only decent memory from the past three days. Lucius had taken her to the hospital wing, demanding that she be treated for shock when she woke up shivering and asking for Isis. After being given a Calming Draught and another bottle of Dreamless Draught, Dumbledore had called her to his office, where she told him about the events leading up to and including that night.

When she had started shouting at Dumbledore – after he revealed he had known of her bond with the Dark Lord – Lucius had held her close and whispered soothing things to her. He hadn't left her side until she left for Bethnal Green, and Ayr hadn't had the heart to tell him to leave her alone. She had put so much effort into hating him that she couldn't try anymore. Her friends had said nothing about him by her side, but she had caught some of their strange looks when he had walked her into the Gryffindor common room. The only one to still have reservations was Sirius, but he had said his piece in the Shrieking Shack and left it at that.

"What time will that be, dear?" Her mother asked, lifting her tea cup to her mouth.

Ayr lifted a shoulder. His letter, delivered last night by way of owl, had been placed unread on her dresser until Jessiey opened it. She knew that her friend had told her what time to expect the Slytherin, but she couldn't remember much between the Calming Draught, Dreamless Draught, and Excedrin she had taken before bed.

"He should be there before the funeral starts," Jessiey answered for her.

Ayr helped her mother clean up from breakfast, insisting her friends go on to get ready. After the last dish had been washed, her mother had pulled Ayr to her, and stood with her in her arms as they both cried out their grief. After wiping her eyes and putting on a brave smile, Claire Trikk sent her daughter upstairs to get dressed.

She climbed the stairs slowly, wondering if time would wait on her. By the time she reached the second floor, she decided it wouldn't. She knocked softly on her bedroom door, letting her friends know that she was coming in. She walked in on the four girls in various states of undress, and they seemed to be moving as slowly as she was.

"Are you going to be able to give your speech?" Jessiey asked Ayr as she walked in.

"I have to," Ayr responded, taking her dress from the back of the door. "For Isis."

Ayr walked to the corner of her room, and noticed the small pile of gifts in the very corner. The friends had unanimously decided that they would bury Isis with the presents they had bought her for Easter. They were unwrapped and in a small bag, ready to go with the girls to the cemetery. There was nothing about the presents that brought Ayr joy; she looked at them with a frown before changing into her dress.

* * *

Ayr looked around her, unsettled by the twisted situation she found herself in. Through her black mourning veil, she saw Lily crying into James' chest as the boy sat stoically and looked at Dumbledore, who was giving the first speech. Jessiey clung to Sirius like her life depended on it, and Ayr could hear Remus as he comforted Courtney. Even Sarah was leaning against Peter, who was stroking the girl's hair soothingly.

Lucius' long fingers stroked the back of her hand as she mused. This was not supposed to be happening; this wasn't how things worked in their group. Lily spent her time trying to avoid James, and Sarah would never think of acknowledging Peter for anything other than to poke fun at him. Lucius Malfoy wasn't supposed to show that he had a heart anywhere, let alone in public. The scene was surreal to her; placing it in a cemetery made it too realistic.

"Today," She heard Dumbledore begin, "We mourn the loss of a beautiful soul. Isis Turbini was not only a great student, but a great friend, and even better person. She tackled all she took on with an adventurous spirit, and an optimistic nature. The eternal peacemaker… Isis was never one to raise a fist, but knew how to hold her own. Her independent and unique attitude will be sorely missed in the halls of Hogwarts, but she will forever hold a special place in the hearts of many."

She hadn't meant to tune him out, but the memories flooded into her mind like water after a broken dam. She had known Isis as long as she could remember; they had grown up together. They had cried together the first time Isis had her heart broken, and had celebrated together when they received their acceptance letters to Hogwarts. They spent the summer practicing minor magic when their parents had gone to bed, and had often stayed up gossiping about their current crush through open bedroom windows.

She looked over when Lucius nudged her, and he nodded his head towards the stage. Dumbledore was looking at her pointedly, a sad smile on his face. She hadn't heard him call her name, but she stood anyway, and made her way to the podium that had been set up at the head of Isis' now closed casket. She turned and stared at the casket, knowing if she looked up, she'd freeze.

"There's… so much to say about Isis," She began, ignoring the crack in her voice. "Isis has been my right hand mate since we were in prams. She had a way about her… Her honesty made you want to laugh, and slug her – all at the same time. She knew when not to say something, but said it anyway. She was one of the bravest people I've ever met – even in the final minutes, she stared Death in the eye and taunted him."

Ayr felt her throat constricting as tears welled in her eyes. She took a deep steadying breath, and then panicked as the rest of her speech escaped her. She knew Isis was laughing at her forgetfulness, and for a split second, Ayr almost smiled. Then, after thinking on it, she _did_ smile, and a new speech came to her mind as she looked out at her friends. They looked at her oddly for smiling, but she couldn't force her face to stop now.

"A lot of people say that Isis was sarcastic," She stated, trying to keep the giggle out of her throat. "Isis wasn't sarcastic – she just knew that life was something to enjoy and have fun with. She wouldn't want us to grieve. She would want to be remembered, but she would want us to smile if we had the urge to smile, and laugh when we were ready to laugh. She would want us, above all, to learn something from being here today. She would want us to know that life is too short to spend crying."

She stepped away from the podium, and neared the flower arrangement that she and her friends had bought for the funeral. It was a simple arrangement; pink carnations were accented with pink roses and white chrysanthemums, with a pink bow tied at the bottom as the arrangement rested on an easel. Ayr pulled a pink rose from the arrangement, and placed it softly on Isis' white casket.

"Isis would want us to laugh, because she's probably laughing at the fact that we're all crying right now. She wouldn't want us to cry; she'd want us to smile when we remembered her and laugh when we thought about her. Isis will be sorely missed, but I for one won't mourn her any longer than I need to. She wouldn't want us to hold on to our grief, but to move on and live our lives to the fullest extent we could."

She looked out at the funeral attendees, and saw that most of them had a soft smile on their face. The entire Gryffindor house was there, and their expressions told her they were smiling in fond memory of her. Even Isis' parents had a shadow of a smile lifting their lips; with reluctance, Ayr admitted that Isis would be more pleased with their smiles than their tears.

She placed a kiss on her palm and then pressed her hand to the casket's cover. She let herself shed a few more tears of grief, and then walked back to her seat. Lucius placed a comforting hand on her knee, and she smiled softly at him. He seemed a bit shocked at the gesture, which _he_ hadn't seen since before Isis' death. He recovered quickly, smiling in encouragement at her as he squeezed her knee gently.

"She'd be proud of you, Ayr."

The girl looked over at Jessiey, and the others nodded in agreement. Sparing a soft smile for her friends, Ayr turned her eyes again and stared at the white casket. She didn't think about the body lying inside of it, but rather the spirit of the girl they lost. She knew Isis was here, somewhere, rolling her eyes at the seriousness of the situation. The thought made her mouth quirk into a slightly cynical smile as she focused her attention on one of Isis' relatives as they made their way to the podium to make their speech.

* * *

Ayr's efforts of brightening everyone's spirits lasted until the reception at Isis' house, where people had begun reminiscing on the girl's life. Mrs. Turbini had pulled out baby pictures, showing them to anyone who would stop to look. The waterworks had started shortly after that, jumping from the distraught mother to everyone around her, and so on and so forth.

Now the group of Gryffindors, plus one Slytherin, sat slumped in the living room. They all held mugs of hot chocolate, which Ayr's mother had laced with Bailey's Irish Cream to calm their nerves. They were chattering idly between long sips, their faces itchy from tears and sore from frowning.

"Do you remember the time in third year," Jessiey laughed softly, "When Isis bet James and Sirius that she could throw more Dungbombs in a day than the two of them could, combined?"

"She did it, too," Lily mused. "Remind us how, James."

James and Sirius exchanged a look, both of them sighing dramatically. James finished the rest of his hot chocolate and held his cup still while the enchanted pot refilled it. A small, thoughtful smile lifted his lips and he looked slyly at Ayr.

"She had Ayr and Jessiey stage a fight that Sirius _had_ to get in the middle of," He stated, his smile widening at the memory. "Meanwhile, she was dropping Dungbombs on students from the tree by the lake while they weren't looking."

Lucius grumbled softly from where he sat behind Ayr. The Gryffindors turned to look at him, and his soft scowl melted away into a sheepish smile.

"I was one of those students, thank you," He grumbled, running a hand through his hair. "It took me three days to stop smelling like manure."

"She did that on purpose," Ayr admitted to him. "Because you were such a foul git."

Lucius looked as if he were going to argue her statement, but his eyes flickered to his arm and he said nothing. Ayr narrowed her eyes in question, but he shook his head curtly. There was a moment where she debated pressing the matter, but from the look in his eye, she wasn't ready for the argument it would cause. She followed his gaze, and there was a moment of confusion before she realized which arm she was staring at; his left arm, the arm that hosted the Dark Mark. She was surprised when she felt no anger.

"I think fifth year was the best," Sarah mused, sipping her hot chocolate. "McGonagall almost pissed herself when she had to break up the fight between Isis and Snape."

"I never knew Snivellus could be so protective," Remus chuckled softly, and then winced when he looked at Lucius. "No offense."

"Don't mention it," Lucius shrugged, a small smile tugging at even _his_ mouth. "I have to admit, the girl had guts. Not many people would have done that."

"What did she do?" Asked Lily, who had been studying for a Ruins test that day. "No one ever told me Isis and Severus got into a fight!"

"Relax, Lily," Jessiey sighed, leaving off the last of her thought. "Isis got fed up with Lucius calling everyone a mud-blood, so she sliced open her hand, and then his, and then rubbed their palms together."

"I've never seen Snape move so fast," Ayr laughed softly. "He looked like he could have ripped her throat out with his bare hands."

"So what happened after that?" Lily demanded, holding her cup out for a refill.

"Snape took one step towards Isis…" Sirius started, having to stop because he started chuckling."…And she punched him in the jaw. She laid him out _flat_."

The group laughed unabashedly, the alcohol working sluggishly but effectively to help them let their guard down. Even Lucius snickered softly, hiding it by taking a drink from his mug before he thought anyone noticed. Ayr noticed the lingering smile, though, and leaned back against his chest, placing her mouth against his ear.

"Are you amused, Mister Malfoy?"

"I suppose you could call it that," He mumbled back, and Ayr's eyebrow quirked. "That's a very unladylike habit, Trikk."

"I picked it up from a Slytherin prat," She smirked. "What's so funny?"

"The situation's oddness," He answered somberly. "I never thought I'd be sitting in a living room, drinking cocoa with a bunch of lowly Gryffindors. Don't look at me that way; I'm sure you've thought the same thing."

"Mmm," Ayr mumbled thoughtfully. "I did. Then I decided that I rather liked the idea of the great Lucius Malfoy slumming with a lot of _lowly_ Gryffindors."

Lucius smiled, wrapping his arms around her torso and holding her to him. She cradled her head in the nook of his shoulder, breathing in the scent of his skin and shivering softly. Her eyes were growing heavy, and she had the impression that it was from the spiked cocoa. She almost jumped when the touch of Lucius' lips on her neck pulled her back to consciousness.

"So do I," He whispered.

The smile pulled at her mouth before she could stop it. She wondered how it had come to be that she lost a friend, but gained a lover; she had lost familiarity, but had found a new adventure. A thoughtful frown pulled her mouth back down, and she almost didn't hear Courtney's question. As it were, Ayr had to ask sheepishly for the girl to repeat it.

"What is your fondest memory of Isis?" She asked again, patiently, before taking a drink from her mug. "You've known her your entire life – you must have something that can top the things she's done at Hogwarts."

Ayr smiled softly, letting her mind wander. She had so many fond memories of her best friend, she wasn't sure if she _could_ choose a favorite. There had been the first time they rode bikes without training wheels, and Ayr's mother had to stop them with her wand before they rode into the pool. Perhaps it was their first crush; upon revealing the name of the boy to each other, they collapsed into giggles and decided they would _both_ marry Jeffrey Kunkle. Ayr shook her head to herself, a certain memory coming to the front of her mind.

"When we were fourteen," Ayr smiled softly, "And we were home for summer break, I thought I was in love. She wouldn't leave me alone; she kept asking about him, demanding information, peeking through her curtains whenever he was over."

"What was his name?" Sarah asked, swooning.

"And why have we never heard of him?" Jessiey demanded.

"His name was Andrew Loring," Ayr smiled, ignoring Lucius' stiffening behind her. "He was a summer romance that wasn't nearly as romantic as I thought it was. He was seventeen, and wouldn't know a witch from a muggle if she hexed his nose three sizes bigger."

"So what _happened_?" Lily hissed impatiently.

"He was over my house one afternoon to go swimming," Ayr giggled at the memory. "Isis came running out of her back door, waving her summer assignment over her head, demanding I come help her with her Care of Magical Creatures essay. Andrew wouldn't leave me alone until I told him what she meant. I didn't tell him the truth – I can't remember _what_ I told him. In any case, he stormed off, calling me a freak, and I've never heard from him since."

"What a git," Courtney growled, crossing her arms.

"I immediately burst into tears," Ayr continued, sipping her hot cocoa. "Isis ran after him, kicked him in the crotch, and yelled at him for being 'a pompous, self-righteous fairy'. She came back to my house, and she cried with me."

The girls made appreciative noises, while the guys scoffed at the term 'fairy'. Ayr nuzzled her nose into Lucius' chest, humming in content as his hand twisted into her hair. She felt the soft tug on her scalp as he began twisting strands around his fingers, and the comforting gesture made her eyes grow heavy again.

"That sounds like Isis," Sarah smiled. "The first to throw punches, and the last to play nice – but _lord_, did we love her."

"Did she…" Lily swallowed audibly. "Did she really fight him?"

Ayr stared questioningly at her for a moment, and then realized what she had asked her. Ayr then remembered that her friends had only arrived after Voldemort had implemented the Cruciatus curse. Even faced with the horrible memory, Ayr could find joy in it knowing that Isis _had_ been defiant up until the end.

"She did," Ayr smiled softly. "She looked him in the eye, and you could tell she was thinking, _I can't wait until someone gives you yours._"

This drew a soft laugh from the somber crowd. They all took on a thoughtful gleam, and Remus whispered something to Courtney. The girl gave him an odd look, but nodded. Remus cleared his throat, and held up his mug. The enchanted pot floated over to him, shuddering as if in anger when it realized he didn't need a refill.

"To Isis," He mumbled, "Who taught us that loyalty comes in all shapes, sizes, and forms. May you rest in peace and watch over Gryffindor, and inspire us all."

"To Isis," Courtney echoed, lifting her mug. "May we make you proud, and serve to uphold your memory in all we do."

"To Isis," James held up his mug, slurring his words a bit. "And to the fire in your heart; may it warm us all."

"To Isis," Lily whispered, lifting her mug with a shaking hand. "May your ability to make us always laugh keep a smile on our face."

"To Isis," Sirius smiled softly, adding his mug to the air. "And to your lack of judgment – may we remember how kind people can be."

"To Isis," Jessiey smirked cynically, thrusting her mug up. "I hate you for leaving us, you bitch. We'll miss you."

"To Isis," Sarah sighed softly, her mug rising. "And your ability to make even homework entertaining; may it inspire us to have fun with all we do in life."

"To Isis," Peter spoke up, raising his cup. "Who taught us that life is too short to wasted."

"To Isis," Lucius echoed, surprising Ayr when his mug joined the others in the air. "Whose time came too quickly; may we never forget the way you brought life to a situation."

"To Isis," Ayr mumbled, her throat clenching as she lifted her mug. "And to the perpetual friendship you showed when you took someone as your own."

The ten friends looked around at each other in silence, each one reflecting in their own thoughts. Something lifted from Ayr's chest then, and she made a vow as she watched her friends hold back their tears. She vowed that she would punish the man that claimed to be her father for taking a beautiful soul from the world. She nodded to herself, and raised her mug a bit higher. The rest of the group did the same, all acting on some unheard cue.

"To friendship."


	16. Relearning to Live

**Chapter Sixteen  
**_(Relearning to Live)_

"She won't stop throwing up!"

Ayr groaned when she heard Sarah's shout, the sound drilling into her skull like a jackhammer. She rested her heated forehead against the cool porcelain of the toilet bowl after checking she wasn't going to put it in vomit. The smell hit her again, and her body collapsed into itself as she threw up something she didn't remember eating. With a groan, she settled back against the wall, using toilet paper to clean her face off.

"That's what happens when you're pregnant, you twit."

Jessiey floated into the hallway and stopped in front of the door. She knocked her knuckles on the door, and the sound jarred through Ayr's spine. She moved to stand and jerk the door open, but vertigo grabbed her and she hunched over the toilet again.

"Tell your morning sickness to learn time," Lily hissed as she shuffled into the hallway. "It's two in the morning, Ayr."

"I'm aware -" She stopped to throw up again, taking a deep breath to get her stomach out of her throat "– of that, Lily."

Finally, Ayr could move without her guts threatening to jump out of her throat. She cleaned her face again, and flushed the toilet before leaving the bathroom. She groaned at her reflection; her eyes were bloodshot from vomiting, and there were dark circles around them despite how much she had been sleeping lately.

"I'll be back," Ayr groaned as she pushed her way through her friends. "Don't wait up for me."

She pulled her robe on over her thin nightgown, stuffing her feet into slippers. Jessiey followed her out and took the pillow off of her bed, smacking Courtney's sleeping body with it. When the girl shouted in protest, Ayr had to stifle a laugh that Jessiey demanded she wake up with everyone else. Lily stalked out and took the pillow from Jessiey, ignoring the girl's pout as she turned towards Ayr.

"Midnight run to the kitchen again?"

"As you've kindly pointed out," Ayr scowled and moved towards the door, "It's not _midnight_. Yes, Lily, I'm going to the kitchen."

She left her bedroom and tiptoed past her mother's room, trying to walk down the stairs of her childhood home as softly as possible. She sighed with relief when she made it to the first floor without waking her mother; Claire Trikk had been up almost every night since her daughter and her friends had come home from Hogwarts for the summer. She insisted on caring for Ayr, and wouldn't take no for an answer.

Smiling fondly, Ayr placed a hand on her stomach as she moved through the living room. She slowed, ready to give her eyes a moment to adjust, but blinked in surprise when she saw the kitchen light already on. She stepped into the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb with her arms crossed as she smiled down at Lucius.

"Are you having a late night, or an early morning?"

Lucius jerked his head from the table; he had been staring at the surface in thought. Ayr frowned softly when she realized Lucius looked just as bad as she felt. She stepped into the kitchen, placing her hands on his shoulders and kissing the top of his head.

"I'm blaming nerves," He chuckled, offering that as the only answer to her questions.

Ayr nodded, accepting it as an answer in any case, and moved away from him to rummage through her cabinets. Her face pinched into a frown; she had looked through every cabinet twice, and couldn't find something appealing. She finally opened the refrigerator, pulling out a jar of pickles, and another of peanut butter. She sat down next to Lucius, frowning at the odd look he was giving her.

"What?" She asked defensively, opening both jars. "I'm _pregnant_."

"You're dipping pickles… in peanut butter?" He was trying to keep the amusement out of his voice, but failing. "That's an entirely new level of odd, Ayr."

"This is as much your fault as it is mine," She mumbled, taking a bite of the weird combination.

"That doesn't mean I have to watch you eat it," He taunted, moving to stand up until her hand shot and kept him seated. "_Fine_, but I won't enjoy it."

"Are you sure your mother's coming tomorrow?" Ayr asked choosing to ignore his last statement. She looked at the clock and groaned softly. "Today?"

"Of course she's coming," Lucius responded, taking a swallow of the coffee he had been drinking. "She's not necessarily thrilled that you're not a Black sister, but as far as options go, you're not the worst."

"Thanks," Ayr snarled, finishing the pickle and taking another.

"It's her opinion," Lucius amended quickly, taking her hand. "Not mine."

Ayr made a soft noise of acknowledgement, watching as Lucius' fingers twisted the ring on her left hand around. The engagement ring wasn't the normal diamond, but a unique ring for a unique couple. She watched as the light bounced off of the two gems; a ruby was set in yellow gold, and an emerald was set in white. They twisted into an intricate embrace, and Ayr never tired of looking at it.

"I'll never know how I ended up with you," She mused softly.

"You _owned_ me, as I recall it," Lucius replied with a slight smirk. "The rest is history."

Ayr nodded, chewing thoughtfully. The students had returned to Hogwarts after Isis' funeral, arriving in time to begin celebrating Easter. They had celebrated in their own way, exchanging gifts and spending the holiday enjoying each others' company. Ayr smiled at the memory; the friends had been surprised to find a gift in each of their baskets that hadn't been opened yet. Ayr's first reaction when she opened the ruby heart necklace from Gladrag's was to burst into tears.

Her fingers reached up to fondle the pendant, and she smiled up at her ceiling fondly. No one had really been surprised that Isis' gifts found their way into their gift baskets. The late Gryffindor had always worked in mysterious ways; after their initial shock and tears, the Gryffindors laughed joyously in celebration of Isis' perpetual spirit.

"She'll be there tomorrow, too," Lucius commented softly, watching her fingers touch the necklace. "I have no doubt about it."

"Neither do I," Ayr replied, waving her hand airily. "I'm sure she'll be bhind me, kicking my arse every step on the aisle."

Lucius chuckled softly, and touched the necklace hanging around his own neck. Ayr's eyes followed the movement, and she smiled softly. Shortly after the Easter holiday, she had begun sleeping longer, throwing up at certain smells, and hadn't been able to eat certain foods. Madam Pomfrey blamed it on stress until Ayr missed a cycle. At first, she had cried, believing Lucius would have nothing to do with her once he found out she was carrying his child.

Telling her mother had been easy; after all, Claire Trikk knew what it was like to conceive a child of a man she should never have loved in the first place. Her friends had rejoiced, immediately gossiping about where to shop for baby clothes. They pressed her to find out the gender of the baby, knowing very-well that it was much too early for even magic to be able to tell. They had waited reluctantly.

"What are you thinking of, little lion?"

Ayr pulled her eyes from Lucius' necklace to his face and smiled softly. She pulled another pickle out of the jar, making sure there was a large glob of peanut butter on the end before biting into it.

"The night you asked for my hand in marriage."

"You're always thinking of that night," Lucius taunted, sipping his coffee.

Ayr smiled and chewed thoughtfully, her mind still trying to wrap around the events of that night. He had found her in the kitchens, a month after Madam Pomfrey had told her she was going to have a baby. They were just finishing their rounds, and he had been looking for her to get her report. It had been a few minutes before she noticed him over the batter for the next morning's pancakes.

"You're going to make yourself sick," He had told her with slight amusement.

"It wouldn't change a damn thing," She had responded with a snort. "I'm throwing up every morning anyway."

She hadn't said anything more than that – she hadn't had to. A knowing look had crossed his features, and he had turned on his heel to leave the kitchen. She had let him go, having already prepared herself for that reaction. She was just putting the batter away when he had floated back in, something arrogant in his gait. She turned with vacant eyes to tell him she didn't need his help, and gasped when he took her hand and kneeled.

"What are you doing?" She had hissed.

"I'm attempting to make you my betrothed," He smirked slightly. "And if you'll be quiet, I can continue."

Ayr's free hand had flown to her mouth. She had been prepared for his rejection; the surprise at his proposal had taken the breath from her lungs. She could be quiet for him – she could barely speak as it was. She nodded slowly, and he kissed her knuckled before pulling a small box out of his pocket.

"Ayr Gabrielle Trikk," He had whispered, his voice quavering. "I didn't think I would give this to you so soon, but I love you and I need to… I'm doing this all wrong."

"Yes," She had gasped, and his head jerked up.

"What?"

"Yes," She had repeated. "Yes, I'll marry you."

He had jumped up to hug her so quickly he almost forgot to put the ring on. They had stayed in the kitchen, making plans to work out timing while she began eating the batter again. They would be finishing their last year at Hogwarts in a mere couple of weeks, and could get married during the summer before the child was born.

She had started crying then, alarming Lucius. When he asked her what was wrong, she had demanded he leave and take his 'stupid pit ring' back. Alarmed and glued to his seat, Lucius hadn't known what to say. When she had admitted he was only marrying her because they were sharing a child, he had laughed easily, pulled her to him, and kissed her so fiercely that she no longer tasted the pancake batter.

Now, she looked at the ring and smiled. Her mother had been pleased that she was marrying into pure blood, even more so when she had discovered her daughter had snagged the Malfoy heir. The circumstances surrounding the marriage seemed unnoticed to those close to the couple, and for that, Ayr was extremely grateful. She placed her hand on top of Lucius', and smiled softly.

"We're getting married in ten hours," She whispered, the situation suddenly unreal. "I'm going to be Mrs. Lucius Malfoy."

Lucius made a small sound of appreciation, running his thumb over the back of her hand. He watched as she bit into another pickle, and arched his eyebrow before shaking his head. Ayr finished the pickle, wiped her fingers on a napkin, and closed up both jars. She stood and took them to the refrigerator, and paused when she felt his hands slide around her stomach.

"You're beautiful this way," He murmured to her.

"No I'm not," She scowled. "I have to pee every ten minutes, I throw up just as often, I can't see my feet, and I'm surprised my ring hasn't cut off the circulation in my finger."

"You're beautiful," He repeated. "You're healthy, you're glowing, and you've been smiling more than you have since Isis' -"

Ayr moved to face him, thinking he had cut himself off out of the fear he would make her cry. He kept a firm hold on her stomach, making her remain facing away from him. She went to ask what was wrong, but he shook his head and shushed her. After a moment, he frowned and took her hands, placing them where his had been.

"What do you feel?" He whispered, as if the baby could hear him.

"That's the baby kicking, Lucius," She giggled softly. "That's nothing new."

"If the baby's foot is here," He began, pressing her right hand into her lower stomach, "Then how can the other foot be…_here_?"

He pressed her left hand against the top left of her stomach. She remained still for a moment, and then felt it; something was kicking her right hand, and then a moment later, her left. She frowned with him, wondering when the baby started punching as well. Then realization dawned on her, and she gasped.

"Lucius," She hissed, turning her head towards him. "Lucius, there are two babies in there."

* * *

Ayr didn't recognize herself; the woman staring back at her in the mirror didn't resemble the seventeen-year-old girl Ayr was used to seeing. There were flowers in her intricately styled hair, and a veil that covered it all. The soft pink of her wedding dress complimented her pale skin and blushing cheeks, and Ayr was rather surprised when she remembered that the woman looking back at her was actually herself.

"They're ready to start," Jessiey hissed, pulling her head back in from the sanctuary of the church. "Is everyone ready?"

Everyone scrambled around, taking their places. Ayr heard the organ as it begun to play the wedding march, and the doors opened. Lucius' two cousins, the flower girl and ring bearer, were greeted with sighs of adoration. With a wink back at Ayr, Sarah and Peter followed them. As Ayr watched, she had to marvel at the relationship that had grown between her fiancé and her friends. With a smile of approval, she watched as Courtney and Remus began to make their way down the aisle.

"Are you ready?"

Ayr looked over at her mother, who was giving her away in place of her father. Her mother's eyes were rimmed with tears, and Ayr smiled, squeezing her mother's hand.

"I'm ready," She whispered, watching as Lily and James followed the others.

"I'm so proud of you, Ayr."

She leaned over and kissed her mother's cheek, trying not to shed tears of her own when she pulled back. She took a deep breath as Jessiey and Sirius, the maid of honor and best man, stepped out into the sanctuary. She waited, and then with an encouraging nod from her mother, they stepped into the archway.

"I couldn't have done it without you, mum," Ayr smiled.

Ayr's stomach flipped as everyone stood, and the organist began the wedding march from the beginning. Heat rushed to her face as everyone stood to face her, and she wouldn't have started moving her mother hadn't tugged her arm. She concentrated on her walking, ignoring the cameras as they flashed towards her.

She could see different people she had met throughout her life. The Turbinis smiled at her, and she nodded her head towards them. Her heart soared at the sight of Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, both of them with tears in their eyes. Other Gryffindors lined the aisles, and she even recognized a few Slytherins. Severus Snape and his date, Narcissa Black, surprised her with smiles.

She finally looked towards the altar, and her breath hitched in her throat when she looked at Lucius. He looked over at Sirius, and the two men shared proud smiles before Lucius turned back towards Ayr. The sparkle in his eyes made Ayr's stomach clench, and she couldn't tell the difference between her nerves and her pregnancy nausea. She and her mother stopped in front of the priest, and Lucius stepped forward.

"Who gives this woman away?" The priest asked.

"I do," Claire Trikk beamed, kissing her daughter's cheek.

Ayr watched as her mother placed her hand in Lucius', and then kissed her soon-to-be son-in-law's cheek as well. Wiping tears from her eyes, Claire took her seat in the first pew, smiling over at her daughter. Lucius and Ayr turned, and stepped together up to the altar. The priest smiled down at them, and Ayr was concentrating on breathing.

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always preserves." The priest looked up from his bible and smiled at everyone. "We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Lucius Malfoy and Ayr Trikk, and send our praises to the heavens with our support. The couple decided to write their own vows, so we will give them this opportunity to profess their love to each other. Lucius, if you would?"

Lucius and Ayr turned to face each other, and Ayr had a passing thought that she'd never tire of seeing Lucius Malfoy smile. He took both of her hands in his, his fingers squeezing hers comfortingly. She almost blushed; her hands were shaking in his steady ones.

"Ayr Trikk," He began softly, his eyes boring into her soul. "I cannot tell you the moment I fell in love with you, or the day. I can tell you that I fell in love with you, completely and irrevocably. You are the most irritatingly kind person I've met, and you haven't the slightest idea on when to keep your thoughts to yourself. You are annoyingly honest, and almost… impossibly caring. Despite all of these things – _because_ of all of these things – you have my heart in your hands, and I would have you no other way. I loved you yesterday, I love you today, and I will love you for the rest of our lives."

There were soft noises echoing in the church, and Ayr smiled widely. His eyes, no longer cold, locked onto hers and stole her breath. Her mouth opened to respond, but no sound would come out. Lucius' eyes twinkled as he tried not to chuckle, and he squeezed her hands encouragingly. Finally, her brain formed a solid mass again, and she spoke.

"Lucius Malfoy," She smiled. "You are _the_ most arrogant man I've ever known, and your incessant need to always be right irks me like nothing else. For six and a half years, I couldn't stand to be around you. I never thought I'd be here, taking your last name – but here I am, marrying this arrogant, pompous man. Your heart has changed in a way I thought impossible, and I love you like I've never loved another. I loved you yesterday, I love you today, and I will love you for the rest of our lives."

The priest motion the ring bearer forward, and Lucius' cousin stood next to the couple. He cleared his throat, and all eyes turned towards him, except for Ayr's and Lucius'. The two stood, locked in place, smiling like children at each other.

"Lucius Malfoy," The priest began. "Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To love her, comfort her, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others to remain true? Do you vow to honor and cherish her, so long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Lucius responded without hesitation.

"Ayr Trikk," The priest continued. "Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To love him, comfort him, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others to remain true? Do you vow to honor and cherish him, so long as you both shall live?"

"I do," She answered breathlessly.

The priest motioned for Lucius and Ayr to take the rings, and Lucius' cousin moved back with the groomsmen. The priest closed his bible, nodding to Lucius that he should continue. Lucius smiled down at Ayr, took off her engagement ring, and handed it to Jessiey. Ayr's breath hitched again as she watched Lucius place the wedding band on her finger.

"With this ring," He began as he slid the ring all the way onto her finger, "I thee wed."

With shaking fingers, Ayr looked down and took Lucius' left hand. She placed the ring against his finger, and then looked up to smile at him.

"With this ring, I thee wed."

She slid the ring onto his finger, and they both looked towards the priest. The man cleared his throat, and looked out towards the wedding attendees. They smiled back at him.

"Are there any objections to this union?"

No one said a word, and the priest turned towards them. Blood rushed in Ayr's ears, and she saw the priest's lips move rather than heard him. Lucius beamed, and lifted her veil, putting it behind her. The priest pronounced them man and wife, and Ayr almost giggled as Lucius' lips pressed against hers.

The wedding march began again, and Ayr and Lucius made their way down the aisle, laughing as people began tossing rice and flower peddles over them. People cheered and clapped, celebrating the union with hoots and hollers. They had almost made it out of the sanctuary, and Ayr was still disbelieving that she was married. Something caught her eye, and she almost stopped.

Dark hair framed olive skin, and the girl beamed over at Ayr. Their eyes locked, and Ayr felt tears well up in her eyes as she saw Isis' smile. She could see, from the corner of her eyes, that Lucius was glancing at her oddly, but she couldn't take her eyes off of Isis' face. The girl stood, and Ayr noticed that her legs disappeared through the pew's wooden seat. Isis blew her a kiss, smiled on more time, and then disappeared through the wall behind her.

"Are you okay?" Lucius asked her softly as he led her to the car that would take them to their reception.

"I'm wonderful," Ayr smiled.

Lucius helped Ayr into the car, and then slid in next to her. They waved good-bye to the wedding guests, even though they would see them shortly. Ayr turned and smiled at Lucius, and he kissed her softly. They both turned and looked forward. Ayr knew that not only was she headed towards her reception, but towards her new life.


	17. Carry On

**Epilogue  
**_(Carry On)_

_My darling angels;_

_I watch you as you begin moving; you've just begun to walk. It's an adventure for us all, for following you at every turn is not as easy as it sounds. There are times when you both fall, but you look at each other, and laugh as though there's a secret joke between you two. It's adorable, undoubtedly, and those are the moments I feel most blessed._

_You will not see this letter until you're much older. I have ten years, or more, to hide this letter in a drawer, but for now I shall tell you the secrets of our world. It's an interesting place, the world in which we live; there are battles for purity, and between light and darkness, and I'm grateful that you two know nothing of them yet._

_Your father and I came from two different sides of this battle. You two are smart enough to have realized, by the time you read this letter, that your father had a change of heart. And suddenly, we ended up with two bundles of joy! _

_Your Aunts Jessiey, Sarah, and Courtney helped me decorate your nurseries. Yellow for our sparkling Ember, and green for our stubborn Draco. Aunt Lily was there for all of ten minutes before going into labor with little Harry. Poor child, growing up without his parents…_

_The world, you'll find, is a very interesting place. I suppose I should stop beating around the bush and tell you the facts as they are._

_You may or may not know by this point that your grandfather is none other than the Dark Lord himself. You see, your father and I have yet to decide if we should tell you. He believes that the sooner we tell you, the better; I believe we shouldn't tell you until you're old enough to form your own opinions. _

_Your Aunt Isis visits every so often. I wonder if you see her; some mornings, I'll walk into your nurseries and find sweets that I didn't put there. I catch glimpses of her now and again, but I haven't seen her since your first birthday. Perhaps she's made peace in her new surroundings, but I, for one, haven't lost the grudge against my father for taking her from us._

_You see, my angels, your grandfather is a wicked man with a wicked heart. You will meet Harry at some point, and you will notice that his parents are no longer on this Earth. The Potters, may they rest in peace, were taken prematurely from us as well._

_Uncle Sirius is no longer with us, either. He is not dead, thank Merlin – your Aunt Jessiey would be devastated, I'm sure. No… Uncle Sirius is in a much more haunted place. He is being held in Azkaban on charges of mass murder that I'm not convinced he committed. Your Uncle Peter, however, died in the explosion Uncle Sirius is rumored to have created. Aunt Jessiey and little Zoë visit very often, but I can tell the weight of these accusations weigh heavily on my dear friend. _

_My naïve children… the world is a very interesting place. I have faith, however, that you and your generation will make a difference._

_Happy second birthday, my loves._

_Mummy_


End file.
